Code Blue
by SEZCPL
Summary: Called to investigate a homicide, Derek is horrified to discover his professional and personal lives have collided. Who is the mysterious victim? Why does she have Casey's pic on her dead body? Casey's memory from that period in her life is gone. What happened five years ago and why is it important to Derek that Casey remembers? (Not a sequel but you may recognise my chars).
1. Chapter One - The Detective

**Chapter One – The Detective**

 _Toronto 8.30pm Current Day._

The alley was dark and wet from the rain storm which, though still raging above, failed to hide the acrid smell of old takeout, vomit and urine. Piles of trash and a couple of rusting dumpsters provided an obstacle course of the worst kind, but she didn't care. It was a place of sanctuary that removed her from the street and put her out of sight. She staggered forward. Her hand pressed tight to her side, her foot dragging behind her. Running was not an option.

A cluttered doorway, hidden behind an overflowing trashcan gave some shelter from the rain. She shoved rotten cardboard boxes to one side and allowed herself to slide down to the ground, her back against the door. Panting, she glanced again at her side and closed her eyes against the pain, rain drops collected in her hair, blackened by dirt, and rivulets of dirty water streaked down her face. As she opened her eyes again, her free hand reached inside her clothes and felt for the reassuring rectangle tucked within her bra. Satisfied, she closed her eyes and was still.

* * *

 _Toronto 11.00pm Current Day._

Blue and red lights flashed in the puddles and reflected from every wet surface. The steady thunder of rain on brick and metal was broken by the bray of sirens and somewhere in the near distance, a radio buzzed with a dispatcher's voice.

"All units, 10-45 confirmed. Corner of Hamilton and West 5th. Officers and Coroner en route."

A car door squeaked open and a foot stepped out in to a deep puddle. There was a soft curse.

"For you, sir." A young voice insisted holding out something blue and plastic to the car's occupant. There was no verbal response, just a disbelieving stare. The young constable's offering was ignored, but from the other side another hand swiped the object, dismissed its giver and chucked it at the new arrival who showed no sign of leaving the dry interior of the car.

"Put 'em on, D. It'll save that Italian leather." The speaker was matter of fact.

The car driver grunted.

"Bit late for that." and he stretched down to pull the blue bootees over his damp shoes. His companion obligingly held an umbrella over both of them whilst the task was completed.

"We'll get you following procedures yet." The voice continued and there was just the tiniest trace of amusement, reined in because of the circumstances.

Detective Sergeant Derek Venturi unfolded himself from the driver's seat and straightened up. In a movement, so routine he no longer realised he was doing it, he reached into his leather jacket and drew out his detective badge, clipping it to the belt of his black jeans. At 28, tall and athletic in appearance he was still an attractive man, popular with all, although some of the class clown manner of his teenage years had disappeared and his eyes spoke of a hard road travelled.

"What have we got?" He asked without emotion. His partner adjusted the umbrella and shrugged.

"Female, Blonde, late 20s. Exactly your type."

"Jazz…" Derek warned, his head jerking to a group of young police constables nearby. His companion got the message and sighed.

"Dead a couple of hours, the Coroner reckons. COD not certain but there's a stab wound to the side and the right ankle appears broken. Restaurant owner found her when he closed up for the night at about 10.30pm"

Derek shivered and pulled his jacket closer as they approached the alley. God awful weather!

"Primary scene?" He asked glancing around him as they walked.

Jazz shook his head. "We've had some heavy rain tonight, but even I can tell if the assault had happened here there would have been more blood.'

They reached the end of the alley, taped off and floodlit now, two white-suited Scene of Crime people working further in, one providing further illumination with the flash of a camera. Derek and Jazz paused.

"Can we do something about that?" Derek asked with a sharp gesture at the sky. Jazz nodded back towards the street they had just come down.

"Tents have just arrived. But it's been so long, the blood trail out of the alley has washed away. I've asked the local lot to round up the CCTV footage. Maybe we can get a direction of travel from that."

Derek nodded. "Do you think she walked here under her own steam? Or was it a dump?"

His companion weighed the possibility in his own mind before speaking. "That's one for the Coroner, I think. There are bloody smears on the cardboard that she was found under, however. It looks like she may have pulled it over her as a shelter."

"I concur". A voice said from the alleyway. They turned as a woman of fifty or so, dressed from head to toe in a disposable suit approached.

Derek nodded to her in recognition, yet he said nothing.

"If you pushed me, I'd say she got here under her own steam – and then ran out of it, or rather she ran out of blood."

Derek nodded. "Anything firmer on the COD, Marian?" He asked the duty Coroner more in hope than expectation.

Marian Lowe shrugged. "Like I said, signs point to blood loss, I'm guessing from the stab wound. BUT, don't go taking that as gospel until I put it down in writing and sign my name to it. I'll know more when I get her out of this piss-awful night and back to the lab."

"Any ID?" Jazz asked, knowing that it would be a while before anyone else got close to the body. "Wallet?"

Marian smiled and held out a plastic evidence bag. "I'll let _your_ labs handle this because I'm far too good to you." She said, teasingly. Jazz grinned and blew her a kiss.

"You're an angel, Marie. A pure angel."

Derek snorted. "Wouldn't that make her an angel of death?"

* * *

 _Toronto 2.57am._

Jazz was reclined with his feet on the desk when Derek entered their office later that night. Or rather, early that morning. Outside in the main office, the room was buzzing with officers all processing the minutiae of information gleaned from the investigation so far.

"Wallet's a bust." Jazz announced, reaching out for one of the coffees Derek was carrying. The damp weather had soaked through their clothes and into their bones, leaving both of them chilled. It made the cheap coffee a necessity.

Jazz continued. "Money, door key, but no cards and no ID. We're going to have to run her prints through the system to find out who she is. That's going to take some time as the crime scene is too wet, apparently. The fingerprint reader shorted and her fingers are too wet for the old-fashioned method. It will be done on the table when they've dried her body."

"Figures. If this case was going to be easy, the alley would have been on CCTV." Derek sat down in his own chair and adopted a similar pose to Jazz. Four hours into the investigation and very little to go on. Out in the rain uniformed officers were canvassing, but with few residential properties in the area and the rain dampening everyone's enthusiasm for a night out, the streets had been pretty empty since dusk fell. The scene would be processed, the surveillance cameras within a five-mile radius would be checked, but everything else would have to wait until the morning. He thought about home and how he had been less than ten blocks from his front door when the call came in. It was going to be one of those nights.

"Flip you for the autopsy?" Jazz suggested. Derek regarded him over his cardboard cup.

"What time is it slated for?"

Jazz shrugged. "9am."

Derek laughed. "You never could do mornings, could you? 9am isn't _that_ early, Jazz."

"It is if you don't get to bed before six." Derek's partner pointed out. "Besides, you're better at them than me. You don't barf as much." He sipped his coffee.

"I don't barf at all." Derek objected. Which was true. For blood, gore, and man's inhumanity to man in general Derek had developed a strong stomach. High School hockey games were a different thing altogether. Derek glanced at his watch. It was 3am.

"Look. There's no point in both of us sitting up with this one until the cock crows. You go home and get some sleep. I'll cover the autopsy and let you know if anything breaks. I'll see you at 11?"

Jazz readily agreed. "Sounds good to me. We can't do much until we get an ident or a sighting. I'll cover tomorrow night if the pace has picked up. Cheers, bro!"

As soon as Jazz had left the office, Derek pulled his cell phone from his jacket pocket to check for messages. It was early in the morning and he had only recently checked his inbox, so for most people it would be no surprise that it was still empty. But Derek sighed. Normally he would have a whole string of text messages by this stage of the night.

Instead, nothing.

He wondered aloud how long this silent treatment was going to continue. Two days and counting. It was new to him and he didn't like it. His usual style was more confrontational. He wasn't known for backing down from a fight and neither was his opponent.

Even now. Despite everything.

His finger tapped out a message.

"Really?! This is how you want to play this?" He typed and pressed send.

The line turned blue on the screen and "Delivered" appeared in grey beneath it. Immediately, "Delivered" became "Read". For a moment the cursor flashed as though something was being typed. But the sender obviously changed their mind because the screen cleared again. Derek waited.

After ten minutes he gave up, pulled his feet down from his desk and turned towards his monitor. He glanced up at the outer office, but everyone was chatting and going through the administrative processes necessary at the beginning of a homicide investigation. Murder boards were being wheeled in, maps were being pinned up and phones were being plugged in. They had tried interactive noticeboards but there was only budget in the department for one. It sat in the centre of the office mimicking the contents of the static boards beside it. But it could only show one board at a time and sometimes, they needed to see the whole picture. So, while they waited for the budget to catch up with real life, the static boards would have to do.

In an hour's time, unless something useful came in, Derek knew the office would all be quiet again and the thumb-twiddling would begin. They needed an I.D., or an angle and it wasn't going to happen at 3.30am. For now, however, the department was busy doing the routine, and with that activity, it meant no one was bothering Derek. No-one was paying attention to him, leaving him free to resort to his usual off-books pastime.

Google searches.

Derek was good at computing. He'd had a computer from a young age and he had quickly seen the many benefits that the technology could bring to his life: Social media when he was grounded (before George caught on to the craze), plus the ability to track his various high school business ventures including stationery sales, fashion etc.

Not to mention online porn was so much easier to hide from his IT-illiterate parents than magazines under the mattress.

Derek was too old for all that now. He had more important things to do with his computer skills. His google searches had a purpose – a purpose that bridged the gap between his personal and his professional life in ways that weren't strictly to police code.

For three years now he had been looking for something, (or maybe someone). And when he found it (or them), someone was going to pay.

Possibly with their life.

He pulled the small notebook from his jacket pocket and flipped it onto the table. It had once been an expensive leather-bound book, with an integral pen. But three years of living in his jacket pocket had worn the leather away at the corners and the pen had long ago run out of ink. Inside the quality paper pages were full of Derek's scribblings, not so much careful note-taking as regular brain dumps. Ideas were written, circled, scrubbed out.

Someone - many years ago - had described Derek's handwriting as "unique" – an attempt at polite criticism during a late-night study session. Derek had responded with a cocky retort and a dig of his own - and she had amended her description to "spider scrawl". Now he could not look at his own handwriting without remembering that night, the girl and the people they had both become.

Derek glanced at his phone again, picked up the notebook and thumbed through the pages until he reached beginning of The List: ten alphanumeric strings with no indication of what they meant or represented. Seven of the numbers were ticked off, meaning he had already researched those numbers using google. That process alone had taken him six months. He leaned forward, ready to begin to research the eighth string.

The door to his office opened. "Sarge. Phone call for you in the main office."

Derek nodded and closed out of his browser as he stood up. Time to go to work.

Across town, Nora Venturi padded barefoot across the landing to her youngest son's bedroom. She opened the door carefully and peered into the dark.

"You okay, sweetie?" She enquired, her eyes not yet adjusting to the gloom inside the room.

Robbie Venturi sat up in bed. "My ear hurts, Mom." He said and reached for the bedside lamp. They both blinked at the sudden brightness and he turned the lamp off again.

"I think it's time for your antibiotic and some painkillers." Nora confirmed, glancing at the bedside clock. "Would you like some warm milk too?"

"And a cookie?" Robbie prompted hopefully. "You know those antibiotics are supposed to be taken with food."

Nora grinned. She wondered how much of his wakefulness was actual pain and how much was the primal call of his stomach. Yup, he was a Venturi, alright.

"Of course. Casey made a batch yesterday. I'm sure there are some left over. I'll be right back." Nora padded back across the landing and towards the stairs. Her eyes well-adjusted and light from the street illuminated the stairwell so she didn't need to switch on the electric light. She smiled a little as she descended. Ten years ago, going downstairs in a Venturi household without a light on would have been risking a broken neck from stepping on an errant toy from Marti, a soccer ball from Lizzie or a hockey stick from Derek. These days it was a different house in a different town and most of the elder children were away. Even when they were home they were all a little better at tidying up.

One of the few positives to have come out of recent events.

She reached the ground floor and the darkness of the wide hall. To one side, the open plan living room which led to the kitchen, but on the other side the two doors which led to the two ground floor bedrooms, one previously a dining room, the other the converted garage. The old garage door showed a thin crack of light at its base. Nora sighed.

It wasn't just Robbie. _Two_ of her children were awake.

"Casey, hun. You okay?" Nora tapped on the door before opening it.

Casey turned from her place at her desk, her phone in her hand, a wry smile on her lips.

"Yes, thanks Mom."

Nora frowned. "The usual?" She asked. Casey nodded and pulled a face. "I'm fine, Mom. I've taken something for it and I'll just do some work until it passes. Did I make a noise?"

Nora shook her head. "Robbie has earache. I'm making him hot milk and cookies." She paused. "Assuming there are some left…" Nora glanced towards the hallway.

Casey rolled her eyes. "There will be. He's still at work."

Nora took a deep breath. "I guessed as much." She looked at the darkness under her daughter's eyes and the paleness of her skin. Nora didn't think there was a spare ounce of fat on Casey's body, though much of it was covered in her dressing gown and the blanket she wore over her knees. There was the triangle of skin exposed at Casey's throat, however, and Nora couldn't help but notice the small round scar that during daytime hours Casey always kept hidden.

As if sensing her mother's attention, Casey put her hand to her throat and coughed. Nora looked away.

"Cup of tea? As I'm in the kitchen anyway?" Nora asked with false brightness.

Later, as Nora climbed back into the bed she shared with her husband she lay for a while waiting for sleep to come.

"Everything okay?" George Venturi turned towards her and mumbled.

Nora sighed. "Robbie was hungry and Casey…" She paused. "Casey's really unhappy."

George reached across and patted her on the arm.

"Talk to Derek. He'll know what's up."

Nora turned over onto her side. "Yup. That's what I'm afraid of."


	2. Chapter Two - The Lawyer

**Chapter Two: The Lawyer**

The office of the city's Coroner was quite a drive from Derek's own office. By the time he got into his car to make the journey he had been up for nearly twenty-four hours, and the caffeine from a day's worth of cheap coffee was making him jittery. He started the car and reached into the door pocket to pull out a bottle of water to try and negate the effects. Almost immediately, his cell phone rang, cutting across the car radio and making him jump. Water spilled in his lap.

Cursing, Derek glanced at the car console.

 **Lizard calling…**

Derek raised an eyebrow and accepted the call even as he patted at his wet clothing.

"Morning Sis! To what do I owe the honour?" He chirped, sounding more cheerful than he felt.

"Cut the crap Derek! What have you done to Casey?"

Derek rolled his eyes towards the ceiling and switched the engine off. He might be here some time.

"She called you?!" He asked, genuinely curious. His youngest step-sister was still postgrad in Vancouver, probably for the rest of her adult life. Lizzie enjoyed student life immensely – particularly student protests and demonstrations. The timid little girl who had struggled to say boo to a goose during his teenage years had morphed into something of an eco-warrior. Phone calls from her were usually requests for legal assistance from Derek's own father, Lizzie's step-father, who was now well-versed in springing his errant step-daughter from the clink.

In Vancouver, Lizzie sighed. "No. Mom did. She says Casey isn't leaving her room and won't tell her what's wrong. I know Casey and I know you. This has all the hallmarks of you guys fighting. Except Mom tells me it's deathly quiet at home when you're both there."

"We're not fighting." Derek protested. He could almost hear the raised eyebrow down the phone. "…but you're right. She's pissed at me. It's just this time she's not verbalising it. I'm getting the silent treatment."

"Der-ek…" Lizzie moaned. "What did you do _now_?"

In Toronto, Derek took a deep breath. "I'm buying a new apartment."

There was a long pause.

"You're moving out?!" Lizzie was incredulous.

"Lizzie, I'm 28. I'm too old to still be living at home. If I don't move out now Robbie will beat me to it."

Robbie was still in Middle school.

Lizzie sighed. "I understand, Derek, honestly I do but…" She paused. "Do you think it's wise? I mean, are Mom and George okay with it?"

Derek rubbed his hand across his face, tiredness hitting him unexpectedly hard.

"Yeah. Well, they will be. I haven't told them yet. I mean, us all under one roof? It was only ever supposed to be temporary. You know…to help them cope. It's been five years and things are different now. You've moved on, Ed's…well, Ed. Even Marti's at uni. And Casey…"

Derek swallowed and told half the truth. "Casey doesn't need an annoying step-brother breathing down her neck all the time."

Unseen, Lizzie shook her head and rolled her eyes at her siblings. Derek breathing down Casey's neck was exactly what Casey needed. It was what had got all of them through the last five years.

"It just seems such a big step. D." She protested. He heard the emotion in her voice.

"It's normal, Liz. It's what we all need. It's the way things should have been, before…"

They were both quiet.

"She needs you, Derek." Liz broke the silence.

"Debatable, but I'm only moving down the road. Next week. A new development. Two-bedroom apartment on the eighth floor. Great views and a working lift…"

Lizzie was thoughtful. "What triggered it now?" She asked. "There's more to it, isn't there?" She pushed.

The thing about Derek's sisters – full and step – none of them were stupid.

"Liz…" Derek warned.

Lizzie backed off. "Ok. Ok. I get it. I've never understood the relationship you have with Casey. The rest of us get on. What is it with you two? Why are you so like chalk and cheese?"

Derek chuckled and glanced out of the window wistfully. "God knows! Although sometimes I think it's not that we are so different. Maybe it's that we are a little too alike."

His step-sister sniffed in contempt.

Derek glanced at the car clock. 8.40am.

"Look, Lizard. I need to go. I'm due at the Coroner's office for an autopsy at 9am."

"Eurgh! I don't know how you do that."

Derek smiled. "Needs must." He paused. "Liz, do me a favour? Give Case a call and see how she's really doing? This "not talking to Derek" crap is all very well but I still need a bit of reassurance that the Drama Queen isn't about to do something stupid. She hasn't said anything to me in two days and it's making me antsy."

"When's your shift end?"

"Twelve hours ago." Derek said honestly. "I'm hoping to make it home tonight though."

"I call her."

"Thanks. And Liz…"

"Yeah?"

"This moving out thing…it'll be good for Casey too."

Lizzie said something unrepeatable.

* * *

Marie, the Coroner, was waiting at the door for Derek.

"I see you drew the short straw, Venturi." She commented motioning for him to enter the restricted section of the building.

Derek chuckled. "Would you rather have the vomit-fest?" They weren't kidding about Jazz's propensity to vomit during autopsies.

Marie shivered dramatically and grinned. "Of course not." She paused and looked sympathetic. "You must be knackered. I can tell those are the same clothes as last night."

Derek shrugged. "It is what it is." He said bluntly. "Have you started yet?"

The Coroner nodded. "I got in early." She admitted. "Something about this one." She led the way into the locker room that lay alongside the labs. "Off you go." She prompted. "I'll wait here."

Taking the cue offered, Derek entered the locker room and followed the standard procedures for prepping to observe an autopsy. He removed his outer clothes and picked up the disposable jump suit laid out for him. Flattering it wasn't, and the next hour or so wouldn't be pleasant. But it was a necessary evil.

Eventually, he appeared in the examination room and with a familiarity he wished he didn't have, he moved to the seat in the corner of the room.

Marie gave him a running commentary.

"So after we removed her clothes, we rinsed her down and collected the run-off." The Coroner informed him. "No significant detritus. Despite the colouring she presented with, her natural colouring is brunette. The hair is bleached, although the muck and rain she ran through hid the original hair colour on first inspection."

Derek slipped a new notebook from the coveralls and started taking notes.

"Distinguishing marks?" He asked, running down the instinctive list of procedural questions.

Marie shook her head. "Nothing definitive." She responded. "A scar just above her pubic bone says she's given birth at some point. Neat job.' She paused. "I wonder where her child is now."

Derek closed his eyes for a moment. _Why did it always feel like this?_

When he opened his eyes, Marie was waiting for his next question.

"Anything under her fingernails?"

Marie nodded. "Dirt. I've sent samples to trace, but I'm not sure you'll get much out of it. We managed to get some decent fingerprints, so let's hope she's in the system."

Derek nodded. "Even if she is she's still someone's daughter." He commented. Marie nodded.

"Or sister." She regarded Derek thoughtfully. "Talking of which…?" She prompted.

Derek rolled his eyes. "She's fine. Or at least she was two days ago when I last saw her. I've pee'd her off so it maybe a while until I can confirm that, however."

Marie chuckled. "What did you do this time?"

He shrugged. "I'm moving out of the family home. Casey's taking it personally."

"Isn't it?" Marie asked. "Personal, I mean."

Derek stared up at the ceiling. "I don't know. But it needs to happen."

The Coroner nodded. "I get it. I really do."

"Yeah? Well would you mind explaining it to my other sister and Casey, coz they don't."

"Losing the safety net is never easy." Marie commented. "And that's what you've been."

Derek smiled wryly. "How do you know so much about a bunch of people you've never met?" Marie grinned. "You talk about them a lot, Derek. I pay attention."

The autopsy continued. A detailed description of every scratch and wound on the girl's body was recorded. Derek did his best to keep a map of the injuries. Usually it was the lab guys that gave them helpful hints like directionality and force, but he'd been doing this long enough that their comments only confirmed what he'd already fathomed out himself.

"Not a crime of passion." Marie continued into her microphone. "The injuries are neither frenzied nor methodical. This one, I think was a crime of functionality. This happened because of some other event." Derek nodded his agreement.

Marie looked up. "You'll need to look for an alternative crime scene. She lost a lot of blood as she made her way to the final site. She seems to have done it under her own steam as well, so look for somewhere close to the alley. That ankle of hers is broken. Movement will have been difficult and taken determination.

"She was a strong character then?" Derek commented, his voice had an element of sadness.

Marie nodded. "She was a fighter. I suspect she had been for a long time. There are some old injuries, five maybe six years old. Broken collarbone, broken nose. I can't tell how she sustained them. May have been an assault but could just as easily have been a car crash. A couple of fractures in specific places definitely point in that direction. There's something going on with her feet as well…besides the broken ankle, I mean. I need to consult with a specialist friend of mine on that before I say more."

It took a while, but eventually Marie finished the macabre process of documenting the girl's body. Derek contributed little but what he did contribute was received well and appreciated. At the conclusion, Marie directed him to a stainless-steel trolley nearby. It was covered in sealed plastic evidence bags and represented the sum total of the girl's personal effects.

"These are going off to the labs, as usual." Marie explained. "On the face of it, all fairly straightforward. The lab guys may find more. As far as I can tell the only thing of note is this." She handed Derek a plastic bag containing a photograph.

"It was folded and tucked into her bra. Obviously, it was important to her."

Derek took the bag and turned it over.

As the bag turned upside down, so did his world. As soon as he saw the picture his personal life and his professional life came crashing together in a horrible mess.

"Derek?" Marie said softly. Only seconds had passed but it felt like a lifetime. Derek lifted his head and stared at her.

"What's wrong?" The Coroner prompted.

That something was wrong was clear. Derek had lost all his colour and Marie was starting to fear that he might follow in Jazz's footprints and vomit all over her sterile floor. Derek himself couldn't guarantee that wouldn't happen

Derek stood up and held the photograph up to the light, shaking his head repeatedly.

It was a colour photograph of a group of about twelve people standing in front of a building Derek didn't recognise. The subjects were of varying ages but the youngest looked about eighteen and the eldest was probably no older than thirty. Most of the people were completely oblivious to the fact that someone was taking their photo. It was similar to one of those candid shots people often request from the photographer at a wedding, under the guise of "capture my friends relaxed".

But this wasn't a wedding, though the guests' general style of dress was still quite formal. It appeared to be a garden party or the kind of outdoor party the rich and famous like to have in their enormous back gardens.

The kind of party Derek never got invited to and wasn't sure he would enjoy.

It wasn't a lack of enthusiasm for social climbing that disturbed Derek, however. Marie put a gloved hand on his arm.

"Derek?" She asked, really concerned now.

"You take a good look at this?" He asked Marie in a strangled voice.

The Coroner shrugged. "I looked at it, but I can't say that I…"

Derek moved to one of the side desks where a magnifier was bolted to the worktop. He placed the photograph on the counter and beckoned Marie over. He jabbed his finger at the picture.

"You recognise her?" He demanded.

Marie furrowed her brow in concentration, and her confusion then cleared.

"It's her!" She exclaimed. "The victim!"

Derek nodded and then to Marie's surprise he moved his finger and pointed at another of the figures on the photo.

"Her, you won't know." He stated with confidence.

Marie looked at the picture. The second girl was standing near to the victim. She looked about 22 years old, brunette, slim and attractive in a pretty dress, her arm loosely looped through the arm of a tall man in a suit vest. He had dark hair sculpted back with some sort of hair gel and the immediate word which sprang to Marie's mind for the male companion was "flash". She looked up at Derek.

"You do know her?" She asked.

Derek nodded. "That's Casey."

* * *

"I'm in the car now." Jazz said, slipping his jacket onto his shoulders at the same time as he wielded a slice of buttered toast and pulled his front door closed behind him. "Yeah, yeah! Don't worry, D I'm straight on it. You sure you don't want me to meet you at your house?"

At the other end of the phone line, Derek declined. "I need to talk to Casey about it. It may take a while. But I need to know that you are trying to get more on the girl and who the hell she is - and I need you to brief the boss."

Jazz slammed his car door shut and turned on the ignition. Immediately, Derek's voice filled the car.

"Maybe Casey will be able to give you a name." Jazz suggested.

Derek took a deep breath,

"It's unlikely. Her memory from that period is largely shot." He admitted reluctantly. It was one of the things about Casey he found hardest to deal with.

"She's getting stuff back all the time but, it could be months or even years before she remembers the girl's name or how she knew her. It would be more helpful if we could give her the name and see what it triggers.'

Jazz nodded to his blind audience. "This may be nothing, D." He tried to reassure Derek. "It may be a complete coincidence."

Derek shook his head, equally invisibly. "Unlikely. This girl hid the photo in her bra and then had to run for her life. She's connected to Casey. I can feel it…and I'd like to know how."

Talk about an understatement.

Jazz looked at his phone screen where the image found in the young girl's bra lay - copied by Derek and emailed to his partner.

"What about the other people in the picture?" Jazz asked. "Any chance any of them remember the girl? What about the kid whose arm Casey is hanging off?"

Derek scratched the side of his nose. "Jessie? No. He's dead." He said in a matter-of-fact voice. "I'll call you when I've spoken to Casey."

* * *

By some people's standards. George Venturi was not a successful lawyer. The people he represented often couldn't pay for the services he provided, even though their cases were legally straightforward, required very little research and cost little in manpower. George was reliant on a few richer clients who either subsidised through their fees or made generous donations to his law firm to allow him to offer the majority of his clients work _pro bono_. Therefore, George was anything but lackadaisical. He was perpetually busy and not particularly well paid. He got up in the morning and went to work and he filled his day with cases that often spilled over into the evening. He was a little slapdash, perhaps, but out of a degree of necessity. His clients were happy, however, and that was George's personal measure of success.

In an effort to mitigate the overwork and underpay, he had moved his office from London to Toronto a while ago when the City of Toronto opened a new _Legal Aid_ scheme. It had coincided with the _big_ move five years ago that circumstances had necessitated the whole family take. The new job gave him more financial security at a time when he needed it for medical bills. The house in London was sold at a decent profit and by moving to "an up and coming" area, George had managed to purchase a slightly bigger house that had two ground floor bedrooms.

It was from one of these ground floor bedrooms that George's eldest step-daughter, Casey, currently worked. She was one of the more recent additions to George's staff, taking up a position as a paralegal, even though her own law degree made her over-qualified for the job. Casey's pedantic nature and legal background were perfect for the research needed to assist George in the courtroom – though Casey rarely set foot outside of the house and had not attended court since the day she passed the bar, five years ago.

Casey woke early as usual that morning. She did not need to rely on an alarm to rouse her and the gloomy morning light barely brightened her room at all. Casey roused easily because she rarely slept deeply or for any length of time. Her nights were blurry passages of dozing and pain which continued into the daylight hours. Sometimes, if the pain grew too much, it would necessitate she took some form of medication, but Casey tried to avoid that even though it would give her deeper sleep. Her pain pills clouded her mind and sickened her stomach. They stopped her feeling normal.

Casey's new normal.

Instead, Casey used the wakefulness at night as extra research time and allowed herself to take regular naps during the day. It meant day and night were barely differentiated, but for Casey it seemed to work. She would pull herself from her bed and cross over to her desk to pour over the current work file. Sometimes she would make herself a cup of camomile tea and sip it as she worked.

It should have been a lonely existence, but…well, there was always _that_ someone with a harder work schedule - and a cell phone at his disposal.

Today, Casey was feeling more than her usual state of fragile and she put it down to stress. It wasn't overwork because her stepfather was being ridiculous about her workload and over protective as usual. Consequently, she was between major court cases and, quite frankly, bored. It wasn't lack of sleep, either. She hadn't slept much last night and she also hadn't slept much yesterday. But neither situation was unusual. Casey didn't do much exercise to make herself tired, a fact that annoyed her every day.

Casey's current stress stemmed from something else entirely.

As usual, it was Derek's fault.

"Morning, sweetie!" Nora greeted her eldest daughter cheerfully with a knock at Casey's bedroom door, but Casey didn't miss the concern, barely hidden, behind Nora's eyes.

"How did you sleep?"

Casey cursed the fact her mother could justify entering the room of her 28-year old daughter with little concern for her daughter's privacy.

"Fine." She muttered.

Nora raised an eyebrow. "You slept well?" She sounded surprised remembering their conversation in the middle of the night.

Casey gave her a look that was more in keeping with a teenager. It said _"Seriously?!"_

Nora coughed and apologised. "Sorry Case. I just…"

Casey sighed. "I know." She moved to the edge of the bed and swung her bare legs over the side, revealing the long silver line from ankle to knee. Nora flinched and then glanced at Casey to see if she had noticed. The latter pretended not to.

"Do you need…" Nora began to offer help.

Casey glared at her mother. "I can manage." She barked. "Let me be."

Nora watched Casey as she slid her body from the bed and her nightgown slipped into place. Casey reached for the bedside table to steady herself and took the hardest steps of the day – the first steps towards the bathroom. As she passed Nora, the older woman closed her eyes briefly and once again tried to ignore the small scar on her daughter's neck, the deep bags under Casey's eyes and the slowness of her movements.

Later, when Nora and George had left the house, it was safe for Casey to emerge from her room. By now the stiffness of night-time had eased and Casey could move with a little more fluidity and something approaching grace. Today, however, the pain was proving stubborn and hard to shift. Casey sighed deeply and reached for her walking stick as she made her way into the family kitchen. It felt like defeat.

In the kitchen, Casey began the process of making herself a sandwich for lunch. It was barely 11am and she wasn't hungry yet, but, if she didn't make the sandwich now, one or other of her well-meaning relatives would appear and wrest the job from her. Casey loved her family with all her heart but, their concern bordered on patronising and quite frankly she was sick of them all…

…Almost all of them.

Casey was reaching for a water glass when the front door slammed. It made her jump and the glass fell into the sink with an inevitable crash. Her eyes rolled sky-wards and she braced herself for the familial overreaction from her mother, step-father or whichever of the family had returned unexpectedly. Not only had she not succeeded in feeding herself, but she knew they wouldn't let her clean up after her own mess.

"Whoops!" Derek called from the doorway. "What's that? Klutzilla moment #2001?" His voice was nonchalant, and she knew, without looking, that Derek was leaning up against the door frame. He, as always, was the exception. He didn't drop everything and run to help.

He just smirked.

Cursing her own clumsiness, Casey walked to the kitchen sink, bent down and pulled the dustpan and brush from the cupboard underneath. She said nothing to her step-brother. She hadn't said anything to him in two days.

Unseen, Derek grimaced at her silence but now wasn't the time to have the argument. He willed himself to remain immobile and let her tidy up the mess by herself. He watched as Casey swept up the glass which had fallen outside of the sink and gingerly picked up the larger chunks of glass from the bowl and placed them in the dustpan.

She glanced over her shoulder at the coffee table where there was a pile of old newspapers. Then she glanced at Derek as if she was going to ask him to do something. Derek raised an eyebrow, quizzically. Casey sighed and walked over to the coffee table herself.

The stick remained hanging from the kitchen worktop.

Derek smiled a genuine smile. _Atta girl, Case._

Casey was wrapping the broken glass in newspaper and taping the package shut when the front door opened again. Nora came in carrying shopping bags and she spotted what her daughter was doing instantly.

"Oh my god! What happened?" She exclaimed, dropping her bags and rushing over to Casey, past Derek - who straightened up, knowing what was coming next.

Nora extracted the package from Casey's hands so quickly the latter was taken by surprise.

"It's nothing mom, I broke a glass while I was making lunch." Casey protested. "I was just clearing it up." Nora deposited the glass package in the trash and turned back to Casey.

"You don't need to do that!" Casey's mother protested. "And _I_ can make you lunch."

Derek frowned. Yup! Totally predictable. He stole a look at Casey and knew exactly what he would find on her face. The look of frustration mixed with resignation. It was a look he had seen so many times over the past five years in reaction to their family's inability to let Casey work out her own limitations. Casey's frustration…and the resignation that to object would upset her mother. Casey tried not to do that. Her mother had been through so much on Casey's account.

Nora finished the clear up, leaving Casey standing redundantly between her mother and Derek. She glanced up at Derek. Their eyes met and Casey didn't miss the challenge in his gaze.

 _You could have handled that._

 _I know. It's just not worth…_

 _Casey…_

Then it was Derek's turn for censure. Nora spun round and addressed her stepson.

"Why didn't you help?" she said accusingly.

Derek didn't flinch. He wasn't afraid of telling it like it really was.

"She didn't need my help." He stated calmly. "Casey had it under control."

Nora glared at him. "A little compassion for your sister would be nice, Derek." Nora snapped. Casey blinked.

"Mom…Derek doesn't need to pick up after me every thirty seconds."

But, Nora hadn't finished. "No? Just doing something for you once would be nice."

Casey sighed. "Mom, that's not fair. Derek's been great and you know it." Now it was Derek's turn to blink. Since Casey wasn't currently talking to him, her defence of his behaviour was slightly surprising.

"Hmm." Nora commented. "It seems _that_ was a five-minute wonder."

"Mom! Just stop!" Casey protested. "Leave Derek out of this. All this because I came out to make a sandwich!"

Nora brightened. "Lunch I can do!" She announced. "Give me two minutes to put away the shopping."

"No, Nora." Derek intervened. Casey frowned and shook her head, anticipating one of Derek's lectures on what Casey was capable of. So far he had limited them to Casey. But she knew he was threatening to start lecturing their parents. Derek smiled and shook his head in reply.

"Relax, _Sis_. I was just going to explain to Nora that you don't need a lunch made. I'm taking you out to lunch."

Both women looked at him in shock.

"Derek, I…"

"Derek, that's…" They spoke over each other and then each stopped to let the other finish.

Derek walked backwards towards the nearest dining chair and sat down.

"It's fine." He said. "Just lunch and a chat. I need Casey's help on something for work. I'll drop Casey back home afterwards. She'll be fine with me." This part was for Nora's benefit. Derek turned to Casey and reassured her. "We'll go somewhere quiet. You can choose." Casey hesitated.

This was a big deal for a girl who had retreated so much from the outside world. Going outside the house wasn't something she did much of these days. Just hospital appointments mainly. She wasn't agoraphobic, but there was a safety factor in staying at home – plus, no one saw her and her "crippled" state.

But, on the other hand, she could see her mom was gearing up for some major fussing of her eldest daughter. Suddenly she wasn't in the mood for being swamped with love.

"I can choose?" She asked Derek. He nodded.

"Anywhere."

"Give me ten minutes." Casey turned and walked carefully back to her bedroom, the stick remained hanging from the countertop. Nora glanced at it.

"She needs…" She began.

Derek put a palm up forestalling her comments, but he looked sympathetically at his step-mother as he stood up and stepped towards her.

"You're an awesome Mom, Nora. God knows you've put up with me and the rest of the Venturis for more than a decade. No one doubts that you wouldn't do anything and everything for us kids. But, Casey…now what she needs is room to grow again. What happened scared the shit of you, I understand, but don't fail to see how far she's come."

Nora's shoulders slumped. "You don't understand what it was like seeing her lying there…When it's your child…someone you love."

Derek stepped closer to his second Mom and put his arm around her shoulders. "I know enough." He said simply.

"She's still fragile." Nora objected looking again at the stick.

Derek sighed. "Nora, when you look at Casey all you see are the scars and the pain. When I look at Casey, I still see my annoying step-sister, my protagonist…" He grinned. "…a challenge."

The grin faded.

"What Casey needs is to remember…" he muttered quietly, and then more loudly, "…to remember how to fight."


	3. Chapter Three - Batman and Robin

**Chapter Three - Batman and Robin**

 _ **London 7 years previously.**_

" _The police?!"_

 _The laughter which reverberated around the McDonald-Venturi dinner table was pretty much what Derek had expected. He had spent his teenage years challenging most of the rules he met, so the idea that he might suddenly at the age of 21 embrace the role of rule-enforcing was a little…unique. He waited for the laughter to die down._

" _You're serious?" George said eventually, wiping a tear from his cheek. Edwin was having his back slapped after choking on his meal._

 _Derek nodded. Looks were exchanged around the table and George didn't bother to hide his surprise._

" _Why?"_

 _Derek shrugged and played with the food on his plate. Casey, he noticed, was the only person not to laugh and he was grateful when she spoke up._

" _We had a recruiter on campus a few weeks ago." She explained simply. "She made a compelling argument for the job."_

 _Edwin snorted. "She? Was she hot?!"_

 _George, who might normally have been his wingman and joined in the joke, threw him a look that said "Shut up, Edwin. This is important." Edwin became very interested in the plate of broccoli in front of him. The rest of the family were still processing Derek's announcement._

 _Casey continued. "There's a really good training programme, lots of opportunities to move into different branches…you know, forensics, cyber crime etc."_

 _Derek rolled his eyes at Casey's emphasis on the educational aspects of the role. Derek's own reasons were slightly more basic._

" _It's a job and the money's not bad." He explained. "Beggars can_ _not_ _be choosers. And as we all know, neither can washed up college hockey players."_

" _Derek…" Casey began. "Don't put yourself…"_

 _Derek turned to her. "Come on,_ Sis _. Let's tell it how it is. I bust out of the hockey programme, and the academic majors I still have only give me a few options. What else can I do?"_

 _Casey sighed. "You could have transferred to my course. We took similar course modules. Your grades are good."_

" _A lawyer?!" Derek snorted. "Really? You want me to switch from being a washed-out hockey player to an uptight keener in a suit." He glanced at his father. "No offence, Dad"._

" _None taken." George said with the usual degree of resolution._

 _Lizzie piped up. "So now you're going to be a tool of the establishment, controlling the masses with a baton." If this wasn't a serious conversation, Casey would have called her sister out on the revolutionary principles which seemed to be emerging in her character aged 16._

"… _and a gun!" Edwin chipped in cheerfully. "Don't forget he gets to carry a gun!"_

 _Nora groaned. "That's the part I'm trying very hard to deal with." She admitted. Derek smiled softly at his stepmother._

" _I'll probably never fire it." He tried to reassure her._

" _That's what I'm worried about." She complained. "That we'll get a phone call in the middle of the night because some lowlife manages to pull his gun out faster than you can."_

 _Derek snorted. "Faster than quick-draw Venturi?"_

 _Nora sighed deeply._

 _Marti, quiet until now, spoke up. "Have you told Mom?" she asked softly._

 _Derek shook his head. "She's next. I was hoping that I could tell her that you guys agreed." He looked directly at Nora. "If I could say that_ _ **you**_ _, at least, understood…"_

 _Nora exchanged looks with Casey._

" _What do you think, Case?"_

 _It was funny how, when it came to the serious stuff raised around the table, the casting votes were always Nora and Casey, as though they were the rational side of the family. Actually, it was the three of them: Nora, Casey…and Derek. The latter having an in-built sensor for skimming along the edge of trouble and whose rationale for actions left him on a different plane to everyone else. He was often the best person to assess risk._

 _When Derek had told Casey his career plans a week ago, it was this aspect of his personality and character that had eventually persuaded her not to talk him out of joining the police force. Derek was right, he needed a job. But he also needed a job that would challenge him and give him a degree of excitement and controlled risk. Derek would never settle for a job that required a suit. He needed variety, a challenge…and an element of danger. It had taken her three days to come around to the idea, but eventually she had._

 _When Casey gave her tentative blessing…that was when Derek knew it was going to happen._

* * *

 **Toronto, Present Day.**

"So, Detective Sergeant Venturi, when does the third degree begin?" Casey fixed her eyes at Derek over her complimentary glass of water while they waited for their food to arrive.

Derek smiled. Very occasionally, the old Casey emerged from the gaunt face with the sad eyes. He hoped it was a good sign that today it happened the moment he got her out of the family home. The McDonald-Venturis were a close and loving family, but they were over-compensating when it came to Casey. It hadn't mattered in the early days, but now it was definitely holding her back.

The smile disappeared as he remembered why this meeting was necessary – namely to tell Casey someone she possibly knew was dead. **Plus,** they had an argument to get out of the way.

Casey noticed his expression. "That bad, huh?" Her left hand started to shake, a sign of stress within her which he had come to hate. Derek reached across and put his own hand over hers in reassurance, but he couldn't resist a quip.

"I'm so sorry, Case. I'm afraid I'm going to have to arrest you. They found out about that time you cheated in the fourth grade spelling bee."

Casey gave him a resigned look. "Moron." She muttered.

He met her gaze and for the first time in forever the twinkle was back in her eyes. Derek squeezed her hand. "You need to get out more." He stated swallowing through the lump in his throat.

Casey chuckled. "So you thought you'd arrest me?" She pulled her hand out from under his and placed it in her lap.

"What? Getting you out of the house? That wasn't an arrest. That was me springing you from the joint."

Casey pulled a face. "It feels like a prison sometimes." Derek gave her a pointed look and she amended her statement. "Ok. It feels like a prison all the time. I love our family but…" Derek sat back in his chair with a flourish.

"…can we say 'over-protective'?" He suggested

Casey nodded vigorously. "Yes!"

"I get it Casey, I do. Why the hell do you think _I'm_ moving out? It's painful to watch the way they behave around you." Derek explained. Casey snorted and pointed a finger at him.

"You can leave any time you want. Some of us…" She started, pointing at her own chest. "Some of us don't get a choice. Me, _I_ don't get a choice."

Derek interrupted with a wag of his finger.

" _You_ can leave any time you want, too." He told her. "You _don't_ have to live there and if you moved out then they'd back off." He flicked his hand dismissively.

It was Casey's turn for the disparaging look. "I'm not supposed to live alone, Derek. You heard what the hospital said. I'm still far too prone to falls." She pulled at the lanyard around her neck with its unattractive red panic button. "Go me!" She huffed.

"That won't last forever." Derek stated with force, nodding towards the alarm. "You're getting stronger every day. Physically at least." He smirked. "You've never been mentally very strong."

Casey snorted. "Gee, thanks, Bro."

Derek missed the stinging retort that Old Casey would have thrown at him. Her sarcasm would have to do. Sure, she'd come a long way, but not quite far enough. That was why…

"The accident changed a lot of things, Derek. I just need to learn to deal with it. And so do you."

He hoped they were still talking about her mobility and not _other_ things. He pulled a face. Casey narrowed her eyes at him. "Just drop it, Derek."

"No."

Casey stared at him without blinking.

Derek met her defiant gaze with equal determination. "It's not going to last forever, McDonald and I _will_ get you out of that house. I got you out of the hospital, didn't I? I got you out of the _fucking_ wheelchair!" God! He hated that wheelchair.

"Don't swear."

"Don't. Make. Me."

They glared at each other a while longer. Then Derek relaxed slightly. He liked how she was standing up to him. It wasn't a regular occurrence and it showed the spirit and person he lov… _knew_ was still in there. Despite everything she had been through.

He decided to get to the point. "It's time to move on. Why the hell do you think I bought a **two** -bedroom apartment?!"

Casey was confused. Derek went on.

"I bought two bedrooms because I thought it was time you moved out too."

Casey was stunned. "What?! As in me move in with you?"

Derek nodded.

"In fact, I think you are duty-bound to come with me, since it's only a matter of time before _Ralph_ realises I've got a spare room – or worse…" Derek pulled a face. "…Edwin!"

Casey laughed but there wasn't much humour in the sound. "Don't be ridiculous. We can't live under the same roof, we'd kill each other."

"Casey, we live under the same roof now and as I recall, that's the only reason both of us are still functioning and otherwise sane. Do you think either one of us would have survived spending most of our twenties living at home otherwise? You know…shared trauma and all that."

She knew he wasn't talking about her accident, but he clarified. "I meant the 'rents, not your accident."

Casey's face softened.

"They aren't that bad." She protested weakly.

"Really? Case, your mom would still be sleeping at the end of your bed if I hadn't called her out on it. You can't _fart_ without her asking if you need help to go to the bathroom."

"Don't be vulgar."

"There's nothing vulgar about the truth." He pointed out.

"Mom and George would never go for it – me moving out. They'd never give their permission." She said slightly sadly. The idea of leaving behind the constant nannying was quite attractive. Even if it meant putting up with Derek. She'd been putting up with Derek for a long time. Why change things?

Besides, he gave her room to breathe and he was right. His coercion had got her out of the hospital and back home with the family. His bullying had forced her to put one foot in front of the other and learn to walk again. The day they ditched the wheelchair had been a victory for both of them.

Derek leaned forward. "Screw the parents. We're 28, honey. Who gives a damn what they think? Besides, I'd be doing that protective step-brother thing they wanted me to do in High School. How could they not approve?"

He had a point. Well, up until the 'step-brother' bit. Casey began to consider the idea properly. She glanced around the restaurant which was pretty quiet for a lunch time. A few tables had small groups at them, mainly couples. One guy was trying to casually slide his arm around the edge of his booth to where a rather bored, but attractive girl was sitting. It sparked a thought.

"What about your…erm…social life?" Casey asked hesitantly, bringing up a subject which had always been a little distasteful to her.

He frowned. "My 'social life'?" Then it clicked. "Oh! You mean my sex life?" He grinned. "I'll buy you a pair of noise-cancelling headphones."

"Der-ek!" Casey screeched a bit too loudly and the couple nearby looked up. Derek waved their concerned looks away and grinned.

"Sorry, we're re-enacting that scene from 'When Harry met Sally'." He lied. "She's a bit of a screamer."

Under the table, Casey kicked Derek and then she stuck her tongue out. Derek chuckled. Yes, leaving home was exactly what Casey needed. He tried to look sincere and failed. But his words rang true anyway.

"I'm a cop, Casey. I have no 'social life' right now. Surely even you've noticed that? You wouldn't exactly be cramping my style, since there's currently nothing to cramp. And we can talk about this later on, when and if it becomes an issue. The important thing is to get you some independence from the bubble wrap brigade." He beamed at her.

"Whaddya say?" He leaned forward. "The second bedroom has an awesome view."

"Please tell me it doesn't involve a hockey stadium."

Derek laughed. "How did you guess?" There was a moment's silence while she processed the proposal.

"As a short-term solution?" Casey suggested, sounding more than a little hopeful.

"One year, tops." Derek promised. He wondered if it was childish to cross his fingers under the table, because he couldn't promise how long it would be for. All he knew was she needed this.

Actually, so did he.

Then he really was sincere.

"You see, Case. No need to give me the silent treatment. I wasn't deserting you. This plan was for **us**."

Casey looked Derek in the eye. "Us?" She queried and for a second Derek was transported back five years – or a lifetime, depending on your point of view. For a second, he could almost see the ghost of… He blinked and pulled himself together.

"Us, partner. You know, the dynamic duo."

She tilted her head to one side, thoughtfully.

"Ok, Robin. But, you can figure out how to tell the parents."

* * *

"I think I've eaten enough for an army." Casey groaned, a while later, pushing away her plate. "I thought I'd picked something light and not filling, but if I keep eating like that I'll be a blimp in no time."

Derek reached across and pinched the fries from her plate. "S'ok, I'll eat the rest."

"'Hoover Venturi.'" Casey pondered. "Yup it has a good ring to it." She wiped her mouth with her napkin. "Do you think you'll ever stop with the 'growing guy' excuse?"

"Hey, parts of me are still getting bigger." He protested.

Casey leaned forward. "Oh yes. That would be your stomach – and your ego." She grinned.

Derek shrugged. "Nothing wrong with a large…ego. And I'm surprised you noticed my six-pack."

Casey threw her napkin at him. "Cut it out, D. Isn't it about time you told me why I'm really here? I know you didn't bring me here to argue with me."

"I did too." He disagreed.

"Childish." She muttered under her breath. "My teenage years all over again."

"Always." He winked at her.

"Der-ek". This time it was said softly. "Stop putting it off and just come out with it."

Derek's face lost the grin. He sighed. "Yeah. You're right. I am…putting it off, I mean." He picked his jacket up from the seat beside him and reached into its inner pocket. His fingers drew two folded pieces of photographic paper and placed them face down on the table. He paused while he worked out how to handle this. Eventually, as it was Casey – who saw through every smoke screen he'd ever put up - he told the truth.

"I was on my way home last night when I caught a new case." He began. Casey nodded.

"I guessed as much when I didn't hear you come in."

Derek frowned. "You still not sleeping?" He asked, momentarily distracted.

Casey waved his question away. "Mind on the job, Venturi."

He shook his head but there was a small smile on his lips.

"I take it this new case is relevant?" Casey asked.

"You could say that." Derek sighed and began to describe the alley and the body, the processes they had followed and the lack of leads. "So right now, we don't know who she is." He finished. Casey nodded.

"Where do I come in?"

Derek shrugged. "There's a chance you'll know her." Casey was taken aback.

"This is a Toronto case?" She clarified. Derek nodded. "A recent death?" He nodded again. "Derek, I can count on one hand the number of people I've met in the last five years who you _haven't_ met. I go _nowhere_ and I do _nothing_. Why the hell do you think I might know her?"

"I think this goes back further than five years" Derek explained. "I think she may be someone you met while you were at Queens. Obviously when I wasn't around."

Casey shrugged. "Ok. Do you have a photograph?" Derek hesitated.

"Are you sure about this?" He asked, suddenly. "I mean the picture was taken in the morgue. She's…erm…dead."

Casey glanced skywards.

"Now who's being over protective?" She pointed out. "I've seen pictures of dead bodies before." (In magazines, necessarily sanitized.) "Besides, I almost was one."

Derek wondered if it was worth having the argument with her. He shrugged his shoulders and slid the first picture across the table. Casey regarded the picture in front of her, reverse side up. Part of her wondered if, when she turned the photograph over, she would see a friend, a good friend. The accident meant she had drifted apart from all of her college friends…except Derek. Even so, she didn't wish anyone she'd been close to dead. Except maybe Truman and cousin Vicky…

Derek and Casey both held their breath as Casey turned the picture over.

Casey looked at the picture carefully. The victim was pretty and they had cleaned her up well: Blonde hair, eyes closed and the pale skin of the dead.

It was a relief to be able to answer honestly.

"I'm sorry, D. There's nothing there."

Casey didn't say, 'I don't know her', because they both knew that she couldn't honestly tell. There was a whole six-month period of Casey's life over which she had little or no recall. She handed the photograph back to Derek.

He shrugged. "It was a long shot." He admitted. "I mean, I knew most of your friends at college and she didn't ring any bells with me."

Casey chuckled. "Oh, I'm fairly sure if you'd known her there would have been plenty of bells rung." Derek's eyes widened. Casey hadn't come up with something that…spot on since… He grinned a genuine grin and wiggled his eyebrows. Casey gazed skywards and shook her head.

"What am I going to do with you?" She asked.

"I thought we'd already discussed that, Batman." Derek quipped, still happy with his earlier victory.

Casey's face became more serious. "Why _did_ you think I might know her?" She asked, with genuine curiosity. Both their eyes dropped to the remaining photograph on the table.

Derek shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"When we found her body there was a photograph in her…erm…bra."

"Coyness, Derek? About women's underwear?" Casey teased. He shrugged.

"I like my bodies warm." He responded and then his manner became more serious. "It was folded and tucked away as if she was trying to hide it. This is a copy." He added. The original is being examined back at the lab."

Casey nodded. "Ok." She reached forward and turned the picture over, drawing it close to her.

If Derek had hoped for a prompt exclamation and an immediate solving of the case, he was disappointed.

"It's some sort of garden party." Casey said, thoughtfully. "Early summer though. The flowers aren't out and they are wearing warmer clothes." Derek hadn't noticed that. He nodded for her to continue. "Ah! I've spotted the victim." She announced. "She's a bit younger, but not substantially. Less than ten years younger, I'd say. She's not blonde here, either." Derek let her thought processes flow.

"I'm still not seeing why…Oh!" Casey glanced up at Derek and their eyes met. "Ok. I get it. Wow! I was so young then! What? Twenty two, maybe?"

"Twenty three was my thought."

Casey put a hand to her throat absentmindedly. "Definitely twenty three." She confirmed. "Not long after my twenty third birthday I'd guess. I know for certain because of the necklace."

Derek's eyes widened. Casey looked up at him and smiled softly. "You don't remember the necklace?" She asked.

"Of course I do!" He protested.

"You gave it to me." Casey reminded him, though it wasn't necessary.

Derek sat back in his seat. "I remember. I'm just surprised you do. I mean the picture has to have been taken within the window of your memory loss, what, three months before…"

"Two or three months before the crash." Casey confirmed. "I remember my twenty third birthday and the crash was just three months later. This party must have been somewhere in between." She tilted her head to look at him. "My memory is so patchy of that time. Pretty much non-existent."

Derek met her eyes for a second and then had to look away. He took a deep breath through his nose. "I know." It was a loaded comment, but if Casey understood the weight of that admission, she didn't show it above putting her hand on Derek's.

"I'm sorry, Derek." She apologised, and then a moment later. "I still don't recognise her."

He nodded. "Anyone else in the picture?" He asked more in hope than expectation.

"Well I recognise Jessie, of course. But only because I have so many other pictures of him, not because I remember that party. What do you think we were doing there?"

Derek ran his hand through his hair. "Well, you look like you were a couple,…but…I don't think that was the case because the timings don't match." He half-explained. "Plus, I seem to remember you guys always walked around arm-in-arm like that. Didn't you break up fairly early on?"

Casey agreed. "We didn't start seeing each other until my second year at university, and it was all over and done with inside a month or too. None of my relationships ever seem to last." She pulled a face. "Now they don't even start."

"Can you remember why you split up?" Derek had always wanted to know.

Casey sat back in her chair. "Mr Nosey, much." She chided and then blew out a breath. "We didn't last because Jessie met Stuart."

Derek looked confused. "Stuart?"

Casey played with the hem of her shirt. "Stuart. Fellow dancer who joined the company during our first tour. Remember that vacation when I toured with the dance company?"

Derek nodded. "Of course, I do. It was the quietest vacation the Venturis ever had. I had to go out and find someone else to prank."

They both laughed. Casey dropped her hem and looked purposefully at Derek.

"Anyway, Stuart was the love of Jessie's life. As soon as they met it was 'Bye bye Casey'. In the nicest, politest way possible of course, otherwise Jess and I would never have stayed friends." Derek's jaw dropped.

"You're saying Jessie was _gay_?!" He exclaimed a little too loudly.

"Bi, actually, not that it matters or is really any of our business."

Derek had been there for the break up. He didn't remember anything about Casey being dumped for another guy. Casey watched the wheels turn.

"I didn't tell you at the time because I knew you turn it into something and I wasn't in the mood."

Her step-brother snorted. "No. You were a snivelling wreck. I never did get the mascara out of that t-shirt."

Casey wasn't listening, which was probably a good thing. Instead she had, once again, picked up the photograph of the party. She was scanning it intently. Eventually, Derek noticed.

"What have you got?" He asked sitting forward.

There was silence for a moment and then Casey sat back with a smile of victory. The suspense was killing Derek.

"What?" He demanded. Casey put the photograph down on the table.

"Well, I was just thinking, Of the three people who we do know in this photograph, two are dead and one has a mind that leaks like a sieve. No information there then."

Derek gave her a look.

"And…" He pushed. Casey grinned.

"So… Jessie and I were only ever really about dance. We went to a few things outside of the dance company, but not much."

"Ok…"

Casey pushed the photograph back towards Derek. "This has to be about the dance company, so if Jessie and I are no use, talk to someone else from the dance company. Maybe your victim was one of the company too."

It wasn't a bad thought process. Derek pondered her words.

"Does the dance company still exist?" He asked Casey.

She shrugged. "No idea. Probably not. I mean, it was Jessie's thing. When he died, I suspect the company died too."

Derek rubbed his hand through his hair in a manner Casey remembered from school when he was handed a complex question in class and no option to escape it.

"You're wondering how we track down someone from the company if it's no longer there." Casey told him. He nodded. She smiled. "We could try finding Stuart."

"Stuart?" Derek asked blankly.

"Jessie's partner." Casey clarified. "He was a member of the dance company too, remember? That's how they met."

Derek's eyes widened. "Is he in this picture?"

Casey glanced. "I don't think so. Mind you, I can't remember what he looked like."

"Can you remember his name?"

"Lewis. Stuart Lewis." Casey announced triumphantly.

* * *

"What time will you be home?" Casey asked softly as the car pulled up outside the family house. Derek switched off the engine and turned towards her.

"God only knows." He admitted. "But, hopefully, you've given me something to work on so it won't be hours of staring at a phone waiting for it to ring."

Casey reached up and ran a finger under Derek's eye. Years ago, the gesture would have cause him to flinch. Now he just closed his eyes at her touch.

"You have bags under your eyes, Derek. You need some sleep."

Derek opened his eyes and mirrored the movement with his thumb under Casey's eye.

"So do you. Is the pain that bad?"

"It's just an annoyance." Casey commented. "Painkillers would help but I hate the way they make me feel."

Derek nodded. "I get it. I do." He combed two fingers through her hair. "Maybe a new bed would help."

Casey smiled. "Then start working on the speech for Mom and George."

Derek grinned and dropped his hand back into his lap. "You come up with any good ideas on that and I'm listening." He said and leaned towards her. "Sleep well, princess."

He planted a kiss on Casey's cheek and she surprised him by slipping her hand into his and leaning her head towards his own.

"Be safe out there." She murmured before kissing his cheek in return.

They watched each other as they pulled apart. Casey smiled and reached for her bag.

As Casey walked slowly up the path to the front door, Derek pondered the way things had changed in just a couple of hours. Now, more than ever, he was convinced getting Casey out of the family home was the best thing for everyone.

The front door opened two steps before Casey reached it and Derek spotted his anxious stepmother begin the fussing process.

Definitely.


	4. Chapter Four - Another Photograph

AN: (Happy Birthday, Kim x)

 **Chapter 4: Another Photograph**

"Stuart Lewis." Derek announced as he entered the office he and Jazz shared.

Jazz glanced up, his coffee mug halfway to his mouth.

"Nope. She definitely doesn't look like a Stuart." He joked. Derek flopped down into his chair and spun it round to face his computer.

"It's the name of someone who may be able to identify our vic."

"Casey didn't have anything then?" Jazz asked. Derek frowned in concentration.

"Yeah. The name 'Stuart Lewis'." He repeated. Then he sighed and swung back round to face his partner. "Casey doesn't recognise her, but as I mentioned earlier, the guy Casey's with in the picture is Jessie. He was an ex-boyfriend of Casey's. It was all over and done with by the time the picture was taken, but they remained friends. Casey tells me that as far as she can recall, the only things she and Jessie ever attended together were related to the dance company they both belonged to."

"Meaning this photo has something to do with the dance company?" Jazz caught on quick. Derek nodded. "You said Jessie is dead?" Jazz asked.

"Jessie was in the car with Casey when they had the accident." Derek told him. "Jessie died instantly." He paused, remembering the sight of Casey's friend lying near to the wreckage of the car, thrown from the vehicle as it rolled off the road and down the hillside. As he stood and looked at the body, Derek had remembered Jessie was supposed to be with Casey on some dance thing that weekend.

It had been at that moment when he had realised that Casey was involved. And the panic had set in.

" _There's someone still in the car!" Derek's supervisor called from somewhere to Derek's left where the car was burning brightly against the night sky._

" _What?!" Derek spun round._

" _It's a girl!" Riordan shouted. "I can't get to her the heat is too severe. She's gone anyway."_

" _No…get her out!" Derek all but screamed._

" _Venturi, get a grip."_

" _But, Sarge…" Derek protested, but even as he tried to make it to the car, he knew the older man was right. Derek clasped his fists shut so hard he could feel his fingernails digging into his palms. He couldn't believe, he wouldn't believe…_

 _Suddenly, in the flickering light from the flames, Derek spotted something pink in the grass a couple of metres away. It was a shoe. He ran towards it and almost tripped over a body. The body. Her body._

 _Casey._

 _Quickly, Derek knelt beside her and felt for a pulse. It was weak, but it was there. Her limbs were twisted and her whole body was battered, yet somehow, she had survived. Derek couldn't believe she had been thrown clear from the crash and survived where Jessie had not. He'd take it though and spend the rest of his life thanking whatever supreme power there was._

" _Get an ambulance!" He shouted. "She's alive!"_

Jazz waited patiently for Derek to come round from whatever place his heart and brain had taken him too. Jazz and Derek were old friends. They had graduated from the police academy at the same time. Jazz, on patrol with another unit the night of Casey's accident, had been taking a drunk to the ER. He'd seen how Derek was when he got to the hospital.

He'd been Derek's TPD partner for the five years since. He had a feeling Derek hadn't shared everything with him about Casey, but he had shared enough.

"You okay?" He asked eventually. Derek rubbed his left eye once and sat up straight.

"Yeah." He coughed. "The dance company probably doesn't exist anymore, but Casey remembered the name of Jessie's new partner."

"Which is?"

"Stuart Lewis." Derek reminded Jazz who made an "oh" sound very quietly.

Derek smiled. "Yeah. Apparently, my beloved step-sis got dumped for a guy. Anyway, she suggests – and I think the idea actually has merit – that we talk to this Stuart and see if he knows the victim. As we just said, it seems the photograph, and therefore the victim, had a connection to Casey's dance company."

Jazz nodded approvingly. "Sounds good. Couldn't he have dumped Casey for a guy with a less common name though?"

Derek chuckled.

"How did Casey take it?" Jazz asked. "The fact that she's caught up in a murder mystery."

"Didn't bat an eyelid." Derek said with a small amount of pride. "I guess after years of dealing with me, very little shocks her anymore."

* * *

"This is good, Derek." His boss complemented him, several hours later during the update. "I don't like the implication that your step-sister is connected but, in the absence of every other kind of lead, at least it's progress." She smiled at him and Jazz. "We'll have to revisit your involvement later on if the link gets any closer."

Derek nodded.

"That's what I like about you two, you think outside the box." Spike paused. "But, we do need more. Have you found the guy?"

Jazz shook his head. "Common name, no criminal record." He explained. "We can check each entry on the electoral roll, but who knows? There are currently 35 people with that name in Ontario."

Geraldine Spikings or "Spike" to her subordinates nodded. "Any luck tracking down the dance company?"

Derek shook his head. "That's for tomorrow. I thought I'd go through Casey's things and then check with Company's house or one of the dancing unions. I'd do it now, but she's asleep – and I haven't been to bed in more than 36 hours."

Spike nodded. She understood that everyone has their limits. It's what made her a successful team leader and her team one of the most productive in the city.

"And the uniform guys?"

Jazz shook his head. "Still canvassing the area. They'll find it eventually but at the moment the location of the actual attack is proving elusive."

"The victim had had a baby." Spike asked. Derek nodded. "Is there any way to determine how long ago? Can we trace her through the birth?"

Derek shook his head. "It was a C-section. They can guess at the healing rate but current estimate is anything between 3 and 5 years ago. We don't know the sex, the place of birth or anything to narrow it down. They haven't yet got to the point where they store DNA at every birth."

"So, we're waiting on Forensics, there are no witnesses, the victim is as clean as a whistle and, therefore, completely off our radar. We don't have a primary crime scene and the one person who can identify the victim genuinely has amnesia. Like I said, Derek any info is good info, so 'well done' you guys on the Stuart Lewis angle. Now let's turn it into something."

They left Spike's office shortly afterwards with orders to go home. Jazz suggested a drink first, but Derek was having enough trouble focussing as it was. He made his excuses and concentrated on getting himself home in one piece. Instead they agreed Jazz would come to the Venturis' for breakfast in the morning. They parted on the stairs outside the office and Derek made his way home.

It was late.

* * *

It was gone midnight when Derek let himself into the house. He had been up for forty hours and his body knew it. It felt like being drunk but without the fun bits and nudity. He chuckled at his own joke. He suspected every joke was probably hilarious right now.

As he walked through the hallway Derek realised, despite the pizzas they had ordered in, he was still hungry. He checked his watch. The pizzas had been dealt with four hours ago. It was time for a snack.

The whole house was in darkness, quiet and still. His family were so used to his nocturnal comings and goings that almost no one stirred anymore. Derek opened the fridge door and picked up the carton of milk. That was when he noticed the plate of food on a middle shelf. It came with a note and was labelled "Derek". Smiling he removed it from the fridge.

"D, I don't care what crap you've been eating with Jazz. Eat this. Oh…and use a glass for that milk.– C X"

It was carrot sticks, cucumber, cherry tomatoes, pitta bread and dips. Not his snack of choice, but mainly because he didn't like the effort that was necessary to prepare it. Shaking his head, Derek poured himself a glass of milk and took the food to his room.

He'd just finished eating it when Casey appeared at the door.

"You home to sleep?" She queried.

"Yes."

"Good." She said. She placed another plate on his bedside table and went back to her room.

Homemade cookies.

* * *

Nora and George had left the house when Jazz arrived the next morning.

Timing Jazz's visit for this moment was by design. Knowing how protective Nora was of her daughter, and how likely she was to react knowing how Casey was still helping Derek with his case, Derek had deliberately chosen a time when the only people in the house would be himself and Casey.

The latter was frying pancakes when Jazz arrived. Bacon was crisping under the grill.

"Marry me." Jazz greeted Casey with a kiss on the cheek.

"Will you take me away from all this?" Casey asked with a sweep of her arm. Jazz nodded. Casey grinned. "I'm all yours."

Derek snorted at the pair of them. "You'd never cope with the snoring."

"I don't snore." Jazz objected as he sat down at the kitchen table.

"It wasn't you I was talking about." Derek told him. Jazz raised an eyebrow at his partner.

 _How the hell do you know Casey snores?_

Fortunately, Casey hadn't heard.

"So. How's my favourite Venturi?" Jazz asked, rolling out an old joke from when they had first met and Jazz had believed Casey was really Derek's sister.

"Marti's doing really well, thank you." Casey told him. Jazz grinned as they went into the old routine.

"I meant you, McDonald." He informed her.

"I know, _Jason_." Casey replied. Jazz chuckled at the quip, but he also turned to Derek and looked quizzically at him. He'd seen Casey many times over the years, before and after her accident, but this morning's Casey was different. Much more like her old self. _Where did_ thi _s Casey come from?_

Derek shrugged but he was smiling.

"You sound well, Casey. Better than I've heard you sound in a long time. I'm glad." Jazz informed her. "Things are going good?" It had been a few months since he'd been to Derek's house.

Casey flipped the pancakes onto the plates and passed them to Derek and Jazz.

"Onward and upward." She told him. "Some days are complete…"

"…crap?" Jazz suggested. Casey nodded.

"Other days…not so bad. You want bacon on that?"

Jazz nodded enthusiastically, and Casey placed three rashers on top of the pancakes.

"Since the accident, my mom doesn't think I'm capable of much more than making a cup of tea." Casey went on when he gave her a thumbs up of approval for the food. "She thinks it's a minor miracle when I make a batch of cookies."

Derek sipped his coffee. "It totally is! Your cookies are out of this world." He told her without looking up from the newspaper Jazz had brought with him. "Especially at 1am."

Casey turned to Jazz. "You do realise, teenage Derek would have denied that compliment with his last breath?"

Jazz chuckled. "I'm not sure 28-year old Derek would admit it either."

Derek turned the page. "I can't win. 13 years of people telling me I need to be nice to Casey and when I am, I get grief." He reached out and grabbed the plate of food.

"Poor Der-bear." Casey said topping up the coffee.

Derek pointed a forkful of food at Casey.

"You think you're funny…You're snot."

* * *

"If you're going to look through the albums for information on Stuart," Casey told Derek and Jazz "I will leave you to it. I just….can't." She wasn't emotional, more emotionless.

Derek was frustrated. "Casey, I get it, but how the hell are we supposed to know what we are looking for?"

"He's right, Casey. We need you to look with us." Jazz agreed. "That way we'll know whether we are getting close or not. I won't have a clue if the people in the album were at school with you or you met them last week."

"Derek will know."

"Only some of it. I can't remember every person who shared a stage with you. Case, we need your help. I know it's not easy for you to do it, but this could be the key to finding out who the girl is– or even who killed her. At the very least this could be the way that we find her family."

Much as she liked their company, Casey had turned pale when they explained why they were there. Going through her old photo albums and paperwork to do with the dance company and the shows she had taken part in would involve recalling her life before the accident. She hated the gap in her memories, but she also feared regaining them. Jessie was a good friend. Casey remembered most of the time they spent together. She had no desire to see how he died. She had no desire to remember how she got hurt.

Much of the past five years had been about her physical recovery. First, she had had to come around from the coma, induced to allow them to reset her broken bones, protect her brain and keep her alive. This, she managed relatively quickly, and with very little speech delay. But the damage to her limbs and inactivity during the coma made her muscles waste, and the effort of her physical recovery, plus the trauma of the accident made it difficult for Casey to move or concentrate for long periods of time. It had taken a year in hospital, where she had to learn to feed herself, and even talk again.

Eventually, Derek had coerced her into a wheelchair so that Casey was considered well enough to be released from hospital into the new adapted family home to live with the rest of her family.

That had taken a year.

Then he'd spent the following year bullying her out of it. Out of the wheelchair, and now, apparently, out of the family home.

She had always suspected Derek's next project, once they'd escaped, was her memories.

Right now, Derek crossed the room and put an arm around Casey's waist.

"If there was any other way to do this…I'd do it." He promised, squeezing her against his side. "We'll do this together. Like always, Princess. You and me conquering another hill…" His whispered in her ear. "…At your speed."

Casey leaned into him and took a deep breath. Derek's unique scent filling her nose in the process. It reassured and comforted, as it had done for five years.

This was as close as they ever got, but it was enough that the thought of Derek moving out upset Casey.

Perhaps "bullying" had been the wrong term.

It helped that college Casey had been rather OCD with her filing of her dance photos. Most college students kept all their pictures electronic: on laptops, in social media - and in the cloud. Casey's laptop and mobile phone had been destroyed in the car crash.

But at least College Casey had printed photographs out and placed them in albums with glitter and stickers and all the kinds of things that used to wind Derek up. Now they just took him back to a time with more innocence.

"What's with the short hair, D?" Jazz said picking up a loose picture from a pile.

Derek did a double take. "There are pictures of me in here?!" He asked accusingly, glaring at Casey.

His step-sister chuckled. "Probably. It's not like we didn't spend any time together at college."

"Yeah, but you printed out photos of me!"

"It gets worse, D." Jazz said with a wicked grin. "There are pin holes in this one. Casey had it on her noticeboard!"

Derek snorted. "Yeah. Pinholes through the eyes, no doubt."

"Relax, Derek. As I recall, that photo _you_ pinned up on my noticeboard. Something about improving my image amongst my peers." She held the picture up. "See. It's from our Freshman year." She grinned.

"Ah ok." He conceded. "Not so bad."

"I have more of you somewhere else. These are mainly my dancing pictures. In fact, I think this picture was from us at Summer Camp before we even went to college. Which is why it's in this pile." Casey turned to Jazz. "You should see some of the other pictures of Derek. His hair style changes every five minutes, until he realised he was most comfortable with it the way he was in high school. Minimum effort."

"Minimum nothing! It takes a lot to get my hair looking like this."

Casey reached forward for another album from the pile in front of her with a smirk and a joke.

"Vanity, thy name is Venturi."

Derek narrowed his eyes at her and readied himself for a sharp retort, but a gasp from Casey brought him up short.

"Oh!" Her face had quickly lost the smile.

"What's up?" Derek dropped the clown act too and walked on his knees to the sofa to sit beside her.

"This is the album." She replied in a small voice. "The one from the year of my accident." Derek felt a chill down his spine.

"Just dance photos, though?" He insisted. Jazz looked questioningly at him, but Derek ignored it. "None of me?"

"Pretty much." Casey confirmed. "I can't guarantee you aren't in some of them though. You came to a couple of performances, just as I went to your hockey games once or twice."

Derek snorted. "Once or twice a week." He corrected for Jazz. "She was after someone on my team and the bastards had never heard of Male Code Blue."

Jazz looked confused. "What's Male Code Blue?" He asked.

Casey looked at him in astonishment. "You mean you and Derek never had the 'Male Code Blue' chat when you first met me?" Jazz shook his head. Derek scratched his head in boredom.

"Male Code Blue is this stupid brotherhood code Derek invented which means that his friends are not allowed to date his sisters. The guys hated it, until they worked out that it meant Derek couldn't date _their_ sisters either. For some of them that became important." Derek shook his head at her betrayal.

"It's a Neanderthal idea that I would need protection from his hockey team mates."

Jazz grinned. "You probably needed more protection from Derek."

Derek choked. "What's that supposed to mean?!"

His partner beamed at him. "Sensitive, much! I meant when I first met Casey she had just discovered that you photoshopped her face onto that 'hot librarian' calendar. It was less an introduction and more a baptism of fire."

Derek grinned. "Happy days…"

Casey glared at him. "I'd forgotten about that." She narrowed her eyes. "What happened to that calendar?"

"Absolutely no idea." Derek lied. "Now, let's quit with the distraction routine and start finding this Stuart guy."

It took two hours to progress through the albums. The album for the year of Casey's accident proved a dead end – for their purposes anyway. There were lots of photographs of Casey in various costumes, dance tableaus and publicity shots. Derek watched the small smile on her lips, a smile of remembrance and then a critical frown when she noticed something off about her stance or posture.

"Urgh! Why did I choose that outfit?" She queried at one point. "It makes me look like I'm wearing a…"

"Gimp suit." Derek interjected. "Yeah. I told you as much at the time."

Jazz snorted with laughter. "It's very…erm…flattering." He commented. Derek stared at him.

"Dude. Not okay. Maybe it's time we really did have that chat." He glanced at Casey to see if she was going to react to his comment.

Casey had moved on emotionally though because the next picture in the album was Jessie. Jazz nudged Derek as a single tear trickled down her cheek.

Derek slid his arm around her shoulders, but he said nothing. Casey closed her eyes against more tears.

"I'm ok." She reassured him. "It's just…this was probably only a week or two beforehand." She turned the page and there was a wide-angle picture. This time is was Jessie and Casey.

Derek focussed on the girl in the picture. Casey's outfit was a traditional ballet dress, a soft pink tulle skirt over a soft pink leotard. Jessie was dressed in traditional male ballet costume. Derek seemed to remember the picture had been taken as early publicity for their Christmas production. He also remembered being there when Casey chose it – and a subsequent conversation that he'd played over and over in his mind a thousand times. He turned his head away from the image and the memory and his eyes met Casey's. Her gaze was soft and questioning and he saw the tears in her eyes. Derek coughed.

"You ok?" He asked.

"I am if you are." She murmured.

Derek coughed again. "Oh I'm just doozy spending the morning staring at men in tights." Jazz chuckled and Casey turned the page.

Before long they had exhausted the album and Derek was about to reach for the next album when Casey stopped him.

"Hang on a second." She pulled herself forward on the sofa and then slipped onto the floor beside the box. Derek picked up a cushion and chucked it at her.

"Sit on that." He barked gruffly. "It'll be easier to get up."

Casey gave him a despairing look, but she took the cushion all the same.

"What are you looking for?" Jazz asked as Casey searched the box, her hair falling into her eyes. Frustrated, Casey pulled a scrunchie from her wrist and swept her hair up into a high pony tail and then a bun. Idly, Derek wondered how many times he'd seen that manoeuvre over the years.

"A programme." Casey answered Jazz's question, shuffling through the box. "It's a glossy thing. Slightly bigger than A4. It was the proof programme for the Christmas show."

"You mean this?" Jazz said holding up a booklet from a pile of papers to his right.

Casey looked up. "Yes! That's exactly it!" She announced and snatched the programme from Derek's friend's hands. Derek eased closer to the edge of the sofa.

"You think it has something important in it?" He asked, hopefully.

Casey flicked through the magazine, her focus intent on the pages. "I know it has something important in it." She announced and then turned to face him with a flourish.

"This!" She announced cheerfully.

It was a bio of Stuart Lewis including pictures.

* * *

Derek and Jazz walked out to their cars in silence. Casey waved briefly from the door and then closed it gently.

"So many ghosts." Derek murmured.

Jazz frowned. "She can't ignore the past, D. It's not healthy. She needs to examine the memories and move on. Acknowledge the trauma and look forward."

"I know. And if it was just memories about the accident, I'd be right there arguing the same thing."

"But?"

Derek sighed. "Some memories…I just think maybe she's better off not regaining."

Indoors, Casey had begun to pack up the albums into their boxes. She smiled briefly at a couple of loose pictures as she did so but did not open anything new.

They had achieved their objective, found some information that might lead them to Stuart, who might in turn lead them to the victim's identity. But it hadn't been an easy process and Casey felt drained. It wasn't just the emotions the pictures dragged up for herself. She remembered the haunted look in Derek's eyes when he'd seen the photograph of her in the pink tulle. And she remembered the gaze they had shared.

Was he remembering her as a dancer, mourning her lost figure? Usually Derek did a good job of ignoring her scars. He'd made it clear over the last five years that the scars were the past and he was only focussed on the future.

Casey wasn't exactly sure why Derek had stuck around through her recovery. She often wondered if there was some sort of guilt involved. But she also remembered their time at college. How the animosity of high school had matured into a more grown up competitiveness that settled into a sort of familiar reliance on each other. They never seemed to be able to pull out of each other's lives and, long before Casey was thrown from the car, she knew they had given up trying.

Derek had stuck with her through thick and thin. He understood her better than anyone else in their family – which probably meant better than anyone else on the planet. The converse was probably true. Casey couldn't deny it – and she wasn't sure she wanted to – Derek was her best friend.

Smiling at the bizarreness of the notion, Casey put the lid on the box and left it where it was. There was no way she could manage to carry the box back into her room, and even Derek would be annoyed at her if she tried. Instead, she decided to take a nap before looking at her work emails. She was expecting some files from Bea later this afternoon and it would be good if she was up to date with the case before her friend arrived.

First, she needed a rest.

As she entered her room, Casey noticed the door to one of her cupboards was open where Derek had pulled out the box of albums. She walked carefully across the room to shut it, but something caught between the shelf and the walls of the cupboard captured her attention.

It was a photograph.

Casey wiggled it free and held it up to the light.

In the picture, Derek was laughing, and from the way his right shoulder was slightly raised, it was evident he was taking this 'selfie" on his phone. He was sitting up against a headboard, a pillow tucked behind his head. In his lap, leaning back against his chest, her head turned up to look at him was Casey, herself. She too was laughing, though she appeared "trapped" by Derek's free left arm, diagonal across her chest like a seat belt. Casey recognised their clothes, her own a pair of pyjamas from five years ago. Derek's a pyjama top of a slightly older vintage.

Casey turned the picture over and read the words on the back.

"Mine! All mine! evil laugh, D xxx."


	5. Chapter Five - Movement

**Chapter Five - Movement**

If Derek expected them to be the all-conquering heroes on their return to the office, he was sadly disappointed. In their absence, uniform had pulled out a trump card.

They found the primary crime scene.

"You're fucking kidding me!" Jazz exclaimed in excitement when their boss enlightened them. Spike winced.

"I assume you are asking me if I'm joking," She asked with a wry smile "No. It appears they've found the initial crime site." She sat down in the chair behind her desk. "It's a mile from the secondary scene. 'Golden Horizons Hotel'." Spike's face showed what she thought of the establishment. She straightened.

"An enterprising young constable decided that, as this case was shaping up for being awkward, she'd assume that everything about it was going to be difficult. Instead of looking for CCTV footage of our victim like the rest of her squad, she looked for holes in the CCTV coverage. She found a 'corridor' of side streets and alleys with no coverage and checked likely crime sites all the way back to the motel. Probably saved us a couple of weeks searching. I've asked to borrow her. It's off-the-script thinking like that which solves cases."

Derek nodded. "Impressive." He picked up his car keys. "Let's go take a look at the scene."

Spike opened her mouth to challenge him, but then remembered their resolution record and changed her mind.

"By the rules, guys." She prompted, as Jazz left the room.

Derek poked his head back in the door and nodded. "Of course."

So instead of finding themselves researching the whereabouts of Stuart Lewis, Jazz and Derek found themselves at a cheap motel about a mile from the crime scene. It was late morning and the weather, whilst better than the day before, was hardly promising.

"It's a long way from the secondary scene." Jazz commented as he zipped up his crime scene suit.

Derek nodded and clipped his badge to the front of his own suit. "She was desperate."

"There's blood in the parking lot. I think it happened out here rather than in the motel room, which looks clean. Thank the lord there's an awning over this part of the motel. It protected the blood from the rain." They both looked up and noticed the thick grey clouds, which so far were behaving.

Marie was waiting for them as they approached. "All good things come to those who wait." She commented as they passed under the crime scene tape. Jazz wondered what she would normally wear as a civvy. He didn't think he'd ever seen her dressed in anything non-disposable.

"That was a hell of a way for her to stagger with a busted ankle. Are we sure it's the right site?" Derek checked. Jazz was taking a careful look at the area cordoned off.

Marie nodded. "Well we haven't confirmed it forensically yet, but we only get multiple instances of blood found on multiple streets when the gang wars flair up. It's been quiet lately – and they tend to avoid the open street when it rains. They like their murders dry." She looked thoughtful. "I wonder what her motivation was – for walking so far."

Derek sighed. "Survival." He turned to the uniformed Sergeant who was standing nearby. Do we know who rented the room?"

The Sergeant shook his head. "It's a 'by the hour' kind of place. Cash only and no cameras. Nearest street camera is two blocks away. We'd need a time and a suspect vehicle to look for. You get me a suspect I might be able to find something but all we've really got here is forensics and not much of that." He turned away, knowing that he didn't have what they wanted to hear – and, wouldn't have provided it if he did.

"We'll take and compare blood samples to the secondary site, just to be sure." Marie jerked her head to the side. "Tyre tracks going through the blood just where the canopy ends. You may be able to narrow down a make and model from those, but it looks fairly commonplace. Again, the rain and general complacency towards cooperation with the police means there are no witnesses. Sorry, guys." She, at least, seemed genuinely regretful.

"Thanks, Marie. We appreciate you getting here so quickly." Jazz told her as they walked back to the tape.

Marie gave a rueful smile. "Family's involved." She nodded at Derek. "Always a priority when it's family."

Derek blew her a kiss. "Thanks, M."

Jazz and Derek walked away from the flashing lights and their uniformed colleagues.

"So what do we know?" Derek asked. Jazz perched on a nearby wall and was thoughtful for a moment. Derek took a seat beside him.

"Young woman comes to this place for what? She's no criminal record and her clothes are too respectable for her to be a hooker."

"I agree. Her clothes are respectable and _inexpensive_ clothes." Derek pointed out.

"Jazz nodded his agreement. "They weren't eye-catching at all. That's my point. So, for what other reason would a lone female come to somewhere like here?"

"Drugs?" Derek suggested.

"Would have shown up in the autopsy." Jazz crossed it off.

"Sex?" Derek suggested again, working down the common list of motives for clandestine meetings.

"I thought we just ruled that out?" Jazz point out.

"Nah. I mean the 'married guy and the mistress' kind." Derek elaborated.

Jazz thought about it. "If you were meeting your lover for an illicit encounter, would you wear an old bra and ripped jeans?"

Derek snorted. Jazz rolled his eyes.

"You know what I mean!" He insisted.

They chuckled together and then Derek took pity on him. "I get your point though. She wasn't out to impress. But, was it an assignation or was she brought here? I mean did she come here of her own free will? Let's check with uniform and see if there are any unclaimed cars. Failing that, let's canvass the local taxi firms and see if anyone recognises her picture."

"Uber?"

"Good point. Let's get Rachel in Tech to check with Uber and see if there were any pick-ups or drop-offs in the vicinity between 6 and 10.30 that night. If we can see her arrive we might be able to get her point of origin. Or anyone else involved. Although I'd say it was unlikely her killer came by Uber, seeing as we have tyre tracks."

"The tyre tracks could be from anyone."

"Sure. But let's not rule anything out." Derek looked pensive again, as if something was bothering him. Jazz noticed.

"Penny for them?"

Derek sighed. "That poor girl walked for over a mile with a stab wound. She passed business after business and didn't feel safe enough to stop and ask for help. Plus, where was her cell phone?"

"You think she had one?"

"Everyone has a cell phone these days. Why didn't she call for help? And if she didn't have a cell, how many street phones did she pass without dialling 911?"

"I get it. It's unusual."

"I think she was trying to get somewhere. Somewhere safe. But she misjudged her wounds – or the effort of travelling so far aggravated them."

"The police or the hospital?"

Derek shook his head. "If that was where she was heading she need only stop at the nearest phone and we would have been there in an instant. No, she was trying to reach somewhere specific."

"Or someone?" Jazz suggested.

* * *

Back at the office, they took time out to stare at an enlarged map of the area, marvelling at the myriad of potential destinations the victim had. Derek opened the door and asked the detective constable, who was available to assist them.

"There's that uniformed constable the boss called up, D. We've been looking for something to give her. You know, other than making the tea." He snickered, the way people who are trying to show equality with a superior often do.

Derek shook his head. "You realise her work probably saved your 'hot date' at the weekend, don't you? We could have been looking for days for the site, and you know Spike would have cancelled all time off. Save the newbie hazing for when we aren't in the middle of an important case. Just send her in."

The young female officer looked like a frightened rabbit as she entered the room. Jazz smiled reassuringly at her.

"Relax. We don't bite – and, don't worry, I'm usually the one who goes for coffee." He told her. "What's your name?"

Derek thought she had to be about Marti's age, straight out of the academy without going through college. He wondered why she hadn't gone to college, her work in locating the crime scene was proof of her intelligence. Possibly needing the money and the respectable job to support someone else?

"Agatha." The girl said. "Agatha Strong." She noticed the slight upturn at the corners of Jazz's mouth. "My parents were being ironic. I was a prem baby."

Jazz chuckled. "Who has the last laugh now?" He asked. She smiled back.

"They're proud. I think."

Derek made the three of them coffees and they sat down around a table in the corner of the office. Agatha took out a note pad and proceed to take notes.

"Here's what we know, thanks to your efforts in finding the primary crime scene." He began. "The victim arrives at some point – we're not sure when – at the motel. We aren't sure if she arrives alone, comes willingly or is coerced. We also don't know why she is there. The room was registered to a fake name, paid cash and no one saw the occupant. At some point, the night before last, the victim was assaulted. She suffered a stab wound and damage to her ankle, but she manages to get away. She runs – or rather hobbles – as far as she can get, which is pretty far, considering.

She's clearly intelligent because her escape route was low key and out of sight. That she was being chased has to be obvious, as she didn't stop to call for help. But she wasn't wandering aimlessly. She was heading for a place of safety."

"Not a police station or a hospital as she would have stopped and dialled 911." Agatha commented. "And I noticed a twenty-four hour doctor's surgery on the route as well as a vet. So where was she heading?"

Derek grinned. "That's what we want you to find out. It may be a house, business or laundromat for all we know. I want you to make a list of all possibles. Start with a radius of a mile and a half out from the place she was found and make a list of places that most people would consider places of safety. When you've done that, take one of the uniforms out there in the main office and visit as many as you can with a picture of the victim. Hopefully by the time we've exhausted all of those we may know who the victim is – and then we can make a more specific list."

"Or maybe we'll get lucky and her first idea of a place of safety is the same as yours." Jazz interjected.

When a desk had been found for Agatha and she had left to start the search, Jazz went down to the local deli for the late lunch order. Derek, remaining in the office, sat thoughtfully at his desk.

It had been a strange couple of days.

Before the new case, Derek's mind had been all but full of how he was going to persuade Casey that he should move out of the family home…and how, eventually, she should follow. He had repeatedly played over in his mind the conversations he would need to have with Casey – and the rest of their family – and the arguments they would make against his reasoning.

Even as he signed the paperwork making the apartment his, he knew his father and Nora struggled with understanding Derek's care?...devotion?...obsession? with Casey's recovery. Honestly, given the way he had treated her as a teenager, he could understand their confusion. But they had missed the most important parts of the university years, and the months following Casey's graduation from law school. They had been absent when Casey had dealt with Derek's own crisis as his hockey dreams faded and when Casey didn't laugh down his decision to join the police force. They had been absent for…

He rubbed his face.

…everything significant since they left high school.

Derek had also been pre-occupied recently with his pet project involving the strange alphanumeric codes. He was not even sure they were important, but he'd been through all of the evidence collected at the scene of Casey's car accident and the piece of paper with the codes on it had niggled at him. That and the fact the skid marks didn't make sense. It had taken Derek several years of being a cop to build up his own personal knowledge bank of mental crime scene photos and accident experience. In his first year in uniform he had attended serious road traffic collisions on an almost daily basis. Gradually, Derek began to recognise the signs left imprinted in the road, the wreckage patterns and even the personalities of the drivers. Sometimes he didn't even need forensics.

Though it was totally understandable that his world had fallen apart on that day, part of Derek regretted how distracted he had been at the time of Casey's crash, that it had taken him two years to realise that something didn't add up about the accident.

Then he wondered why he was still calling it an accident, when now, in hindsight, it clearly wasn't.

* * *

The suit currently standing on the doorstep of the MacDonald-Venturi home looked as though it had been tailor-made for the young woman wearing it. The hair, swept up into a French pleat looked as though it volunteered to pin itself tightly to her head – no hairspray required. The large pilot bag at her feet looked as though it ran alongside her of its own free will and took no effort from its owner to carry around.

It was all a carefully crafted illusion. Like George Venturi, Beatrice was not paid enough for bespoke suits , under which were several tattoos, and she spent a significant amount of time each morning coaxing her unruly mop of hair into the sculpture it currently formed.

That lifting her pilot case was hardly taxing was true, however. Bea was very fit. Her diminutive size belied her strength – physical and mental. Though 5ft 3in, in many ways Bea was Amazonian. She had been a kick-boxing champion before she became an advocate for the poor and oppressed. In civvies, her tattoos showing, Bea was nothing short of frightening. She was also one of Casey's closest friends.

"You look like crap." She greeted Casey that afternoon. "Please tell me it was because you were up all night having hot and heavy sex with that step-brother of yours."

Casey gave her a long hard look. "Bea, sweetie, I love you to pieces, but if you ever mention the words "hot and heavy", "sex" and Derek in the same sentence again…"

"You'll blush just as easily then too." Bea grinned.

Casey tutted and led her into the living room. The boxes from the morning were still waiting for someone to move them.

"What's all that?" Bea asked bluntly. She saved her verbal filter for the court room.

"Photograph albums. Someone I might have known before my accident has been murdered. Derek's investigating it and we are trying to identify the victim. Derek, Jazz and I, that is. We spent all morning looking at photographs of my past. Now I just want to curl up and go to sleep."

Bea looked seriously at Casey. "You do look totally washed out, hun. I guess it was emotionally draining. Any new memories surface along the way?"

Casey shook her head and then she chuckled. "A hilarious photograph of Derek from a Summer Camp before our freshman year – he had a ridiculously short haircut. But otherwise, nothing new." She moved across to the kettle. "Tea?"

Bea nodded and put her pilot bag on the floor beside the dining table.

"Would you rather we did this another time?" She asked Casey. Her friend shook her head vehemently.

"Absolutely not. You know me better than that. Don't **you** start pussy-footing around me. If George gets wind of you thinking I'm not coping he'd tear up my contract in a heartbeat. And I need this job to keep me sane."

Bea nodded and began taking files out of her case. "Wouldn't dream of it. I like your pedantry. I know when I go into court you've covered every possible scenario. I know how little sleep you get – and yet you still manage to draw more accurate briefs than any other paralegal I've ever come across. Your body may not feel your own, but your mind is fully functioning."

"Mostly. There's still stuff missing. Like my recollection of this girl. She died with a photograph of me on her body, but her face just doesn't ring any bells."

Bea shrugged. "Maybe she changed her appearance."

"It's possible. In fact, it's likely. It's just… you have to understand my post-high-school life. I had very few female friends. In lectures, I often sat with Derek, so the only girls I got to know were the ones he was dating. Outside of lectures I spent a lot of time with his hockey team, and they weren't known for relationships with longevity. (Of course, I was the _sister_ as far as they were concerned. Off-limits.)"

Bea snickered. Casey gave a small smile.

"So, the only time I really cultivated friendships with women was in my dance company."

"Which means this girl has to be one of your dancing friends?"

"That's the assumption. Unfortunately, since the accident stopped me walking for two and a half years, I didn't really keep up with the dance company or anyone in it. Plus, my closest dancing friend was Jessie."

"And he was in the accident." Bea stated. Casey looked surprised. She didn't talk about that time very much and she wasn't sure she had mentioned Jessie to her friend.

Bea didn't look apologetic. "Old habits die hard. When I first met you I asked Derek about your accident, because I'm a nosey bugger."

Casey nodded. "You are." She grinned. "Good job we're friends eh?" Then her face became serious and she sighed. "Yes, Jessie was with me in the accident. Me, Jessie and Sophie. It was Sophie's car we were in. She was one of my few close female friends. Jessie and I were thrown clear, but they never managed to get her out of the car before it caught fire." Casey shook her head. "I lost two of the best that day." She sighed. "And everything I can tell you about it comes from someone else's memories. I can remember _fuck all_ about it."

There was a silence in the room until the clock ticking finally pierced their mood. Bea put her hand over Casey's and squeezed once.

"Maybe I should call Derek." She suggested. Casey shook her head.

"No. Leave the poor bugger be. He has a hard enough job doing what he does without being on call for the cripple."

"Casey…" Bea chided.

Casey wiped away a tear from her eye. "I'm just a bit tired, B. Let's look at your brief. It will distract me."

Bea nodded. "Okay then."

* * *

"Stay for dinner?" Casey asked looking up at the kitchen clock several hours later. "Mom and Robbie will be home soon."

Bea hesitated. Casey grinned. "Don't worry, it's not George cooking. Tonight is take out night. I think they decided on Kashmiri tonight."

Her friend frowned. "I haven't had that in ages! Will there be enough though?"

Casey paused in the process of putting away her notes. "Oh yes! Mom always buys enough for Derek, Edwin and Lizzie because you never know when one of them might actually turn up for a meal. Although, I think Lizzie called George last night so she might currently be out on bail and therefore confined to campus."

"Again?!" Bea sounded a little impressed.

Casey shrugged. "That's Lizzie for you. Fortunately, she's had enough legal stuff thrown at her over the years that she always manages to stay this side of a conviction. She's a nuisance rather than a problem…which is exactly what she is going for with big business. It could be interesting when Edwin becomes a multi-millionaire as I can see Lizzie chaining herself to the door of _his_ office in protest at something or other."

"How is Ed's plan to take over the world going?"

"Well, he only has six months on his directorship ban left, then he can be a CEO again. I'm sure he's already working on that plan, but in the meantime his hedge fund cronies seem to be putting plenty of work his way." Casey rolled her eyes. "No doubt another one of the family who'll need a lawyer in the not too distant future."

"Didn't your dad handle it last time?"

"Yup. But he's refused to get involved again. I think he lost money in the subsequent crash."

Bea met Casey's eye and they both giggled. "Venturis!" Bea exclaimed. "At least George is only a disaster behind the wheel of a car."

Casey stood up carefully and stretched a little. "He's improved in that area, really. When he worked in London he was far worse. I guess my accident was a bit of a wake-up call." She walked across to the kitchen sink to re-fill the kettle. Bea finished putting her paperwork away, slipped off her shoes and reached up to pull her hair out of its restraints.

"Sod the tea, Casey. The working day is over. Let's have a beer!"

Casey hesitated with the kettle hanging over the sink.

"Sorry, I should have thought. I forget to offer because my pain meds don't let me drink." She put the kettle down and crossed to the fridge. Bea got up and went to join her.

"I thought you had ditched the pain meds." She asked leaning up against the cupboard.

"I hate them so I try to avoid taking them, but there's always the _what if_. What if it gets really bad and I can't take anything because I've had alcohol."

"When did you last need them?" Bea asked. "I mean _really_ need them."

"I almost took one the other night." Casey answered. "But then I got distracted by your case and forgot." She'd told Nora she had taken it though, just because it was easier than explaining to her mother. Bea reached across to the open fridge door and took out a second beer. She offered it to Casey.

"Have a beer, Casey. If my legal crap can make you forget the pain, I'm telling you now, one beer is a much better substitute for the meds."

Casey thought about it for a second. She had drunk very little alcohol in the past five years. But Bea was right, if she wasn't going to take her meds there really was no reason why she shouldn't have a bottle of beer with her friend once in a while. She glanced at the clock, if she drank it now, her mom wouldn't even know she had had it. Then she reminded herself how silly that was. She was 28 years old.

Casey accepted the opened bottle and took a sip. Bea chinked her own bottle against Casey's.

"There you go. Won't be long and we'll have you back up on stage singing Karaoke."

Casey laughed and took another sip. "That reminds me of a story from my college days." She leaned against the work surface. "Derek singing 'The Doors'. "Come on baby light my fire. I don't think my ears ever recov…"

The front door opened and Nora and Robbie came into the house, ladened with shopping bags.

Nora spotted the beer bottle instantly.

"Casey?" She queried in a way that made it clear she didn't approve. Seeing Casey glance at the beer bottle in her hand as if wondering why it was there, Bea straightened.

"Hi Nora! Lovely to see you! Let me get those shopping bags from you. Casey and I were just having a beer to celebrate another successful case-filing. Can I get you a cold beer? You look like you could do with it."

Slightly overwhelmed as Bea swooped in and took the bags of shopping from her hands, winked at Robbie and returned to the kitchen for the beer, Nora could only watch as Casey's colleague assumed her compliance.

"I was just saying to Casey, there is nothing wrong with one beer at the end of a difficult day, is there Nora?" Casey didn't miss the slight challenge in Bea's tone. She hadn't worked out yet, if she was grateful.

Before it could become a _thing_ , Robbie had disappeared up the stairs and George came through the front door carrying take out.

"Put the oven on so we can keep this lot warm!" He called. "Oh hi Bea! Still here? You going to join us for dinner?"

It was Bea who put the oven on and Casey – voting with her feet – who went to the fridge for the beer for George. Unseen, Bea gave her a thumbs up. Casey thought Derek might have been proud of her tonight for ignoring her mother. She made a mental note to tell him.

Soon, plates were warming in the oven and Casey was laying the table. George had changed out of his suit and was discussing Bea's latest case with her when the front door opened again. George glanced up in surprise.

"Quick Casey! Call the police! A strange man just entered our house!"

"Very funny, dad." Derek said, motioning for Jazz to come into the house too. "You been working on that one a while?"

"Only since we last saw you." George quipped back.

Derek took off his jacket and hung it up. "Jazz is joining us for dinner. Is that okay? We brought extra food."

Jazz held the bags aloft and Nora came to collect them.

"The more the merrier." She said with a genuine smile. "It's been a while, Jazz."

"Thanks Mrs V. And you're right. It has been a while." He winked at Casey. No need for the rest of the family to know that he had been there only this morning. Derek slapped him on the back and motioned toward the holster on his shoulder.

"Robbie's home. Let's get rid of our hardware." He said, and the two men unholstered their guns, checked the safety catches and made for the gun safe in Derek's room. They returned moments later, their holsters also tactfully removed. Derek tried hard to keep that aspect of his job out of his younger brother's eyesight.

"Thanks guys." George said in acknowledgement and then set off for the kitchen to help Nora sort out the food.

Derek glanced over at Bea and inwardly groaned at her presence. He liked Casey's friend and would have been pleased to see her – if he'd come home on his own.

"Hi Bea, looking good. Jazz, you remember Dad and Casey's colleague?" He winced as he finished the sentence.

Of course, Jazz did! They _all_ remembered the last time Bea and Jazz met. It was less a clash of personalities and more like the Cuban missile crisis. Jazz somehow morphed into an adolescent frat boy and Bea turned haughty and devoid of humour. Neither set of which characteristics were true pictures of the people concerned. It had thoroughly bemused Casey who, fond of both of them had wanted them to get on. Derek, on the other hand, was personally convinced that, rather than hating the pants off each other, it was only a matter of time before their two best friends jumped each other.

Jazz followed Derek into the living room with a smirk. "Nice to see you again." He told Bea. "You're looking less uptight today. It's not that I don't do 'librarian' but, you look better with your hair down."

Bea gave Jazz an appraising look. No one who met Jason Ransome could fail to be impressed by his looks. He wasn't exactly handsome, but he liked to think of himself as more Denzel Washington rather than Will Smith. He spent a lot of his spare time training, however, and his shirts strained to cover his physique. At 6ft 5 he towered above Bea, but she wasn't one to cower in his shadow. She turned to Casey's stepbrother.

"Derek, I see you brought the Incredible Hulk home to play with Robbie. Best brother ever!"

Casey chuckled. "Now, now children. Play nicely."

Jazz held up his palms in a defensive pose and Bea sipped her beer thoughtfully. Derek decided she was on her best behaviour today. At some point, however, his best friend was toast. Derek nodded when she offered him a beer and smirked a little when Bea also offered a beer to Jazz by miming tipping the bottle over his head. Jazz flinched and she handed him the unopened bottle with a grin.

Derek did a double take, however, when Bea turned to Casey.

"Top up?" She asked, pointing to the half-empty bottle in Casey's hand that Derek had previously missed.

Casey's gaze met Derek's and they both glanced towards the kitchen. Derek smiled encouragingly. But Casey did not want to push it with her mom.

"No thanks, Bea. Even just one beer after five years means if I have anymore I might get up on the table after all."

Jazz grinned at Derek. "Now that you'd pay to see." He commented.

* * *

"You're home nice and early, Derek." Nora commented as they helped themselves to the cartons of food in the middle of the table. Derek shrugged.

"Early start and a long journey tomorrow." He explained. "We've got to fly to Quebec."

"Quebec?!" George looked horrified. "What's in Quebec?" He passed some rice to Robbie who seemed to be filling himself up with aromatic naan.

"Not actually in Quebec, about three hours' drive north of Quebec City. There's a potential witness who may be able to help us identify our murder victim." Derek turned his gaze to Casey. "We found Stuart." He explained with a small smile.

Casey paused with her food halfway to her mouth. "Stuart's in Quebec?"

Derek shook his head. "Not normally, no. Normally he's in Toronto. Apparently, he runs a dance studio and well-being centre here. But, currently, he's off the grid on a yoga retreat. According to his assistant." His face betrayed his amusement at the idea of a yoga retreat, but he didn't comment on it.

"He's not due back for another week, and it's almost impossible to get a message to him. The rest of the case is grinding to a halt without the victim being identified, so we've been told to go find him. We're flying up in the morning, renting a car and driving onwards. We'll stay overnight, talk to him the day after tomorrow and then come home."

"That's quite a trip." Nora commented. "I can see why you came home early. Can I do anything to help? Washing? Ironing?"

Derek smiled at his step-mother, recognising that she was offering to do the jobs that no one in the house enjoyed – including her. "Thanks, Nora. No, I'm fine. But Casey might want some help packing."

Casey's eyes widened. "Me?!"

Nora was also shocked. "Casey?!"

Derek turned to his step-sister first. "Casey, Stuart knows you and between you I think you can ID the vic. It will be far easier to get his cooperation if it comes from you."

It was Nora who responded. "Derek, that's ridiculous. Casey can't go all that way. It involves flying and a long car journey. It's too much for her." Her tone said her answer was final. Derek turned to Casey.

"What would you rather do, Casey? Sit on your backside in your room here all day or sit on your backside on a plane for 75 minutes followed by three hours in the car?"

"It's about more than movement, Derek. Casey has all her medication here, she struggles to sleep in her own bed so a hotel bed is going to be worse, and her sticks….what about her sticks? Getting through the terminal would be really tiring for her…and what if she needs her consultant?"

Derek's jaw tightened and he glanced at the ceiling in frustration. "Casey hasn't seen her consultant in eight months, Nora. The consultant's instructions at her last check up were to only use the sticks as a last resort because she needs to work on her balance. But, if she struggles with the walking distance in the terminal I'll get one of those golf carts.

As for sleeping at home, I know she doesn't sleep well, but then not-sleeping in a hotel isn't going to be worse – it's just going to be different – and maybe a change would be good for her."

Casey watched them fight over her with a kind of bemused detachment. Bea nudged her with her foot.

"What do you want, Casey?" She asked pointedly. Derek stopped remonstrating with Casey's mother and turned once more to Casey.

"Yes, you're right, Bea. It's Casey's call." He said firmly. Nora objected but Derek held up his hand. "Let Jazz tell you the plans and you can decide." He told Casey.

Casey nodded and turned to Jazz. He smiled.

"We are going to leave tomorrow morning at 7am and drive to the airport. We've booked business class tickets to Quebec City." He glanced at Nora. "More legroom and we can use the lounge until it's time for boarding." He turned back to Casey. "The flight should be just under 90 minutes. When we arrive, we've rented a large SUV – with extra leg space so you can stretch out if you want. We've booked a four-star hotel about half an hour from the yoga resort and we have the rest of the day to get to the hotel so we can stop as often as you like."

Derek continued. "The hotel has a full spa and health resort attached to it, including a qualified sports physio. There are decent medical facilities – that you won't need – in the nearby town."

"What about my work?" Casey asked. "I have a brief to work on."

"You have a laptop." Bea told her. "And I'm sure the plane has wifi. The hotel definitely will have. We'll cope." She smiled reassuringly. "You can do this, Casey." Her smile turned into a smirk. "Derek will look after you, I'm sure."

Casey locked eyes with her friend even as she kicked her. _Behave!_

Jazz grinned. "Don't forget me. Worst case scenario, I'll carry you everywhere."

Bea rolled her eyes. "Now he really is channelling his Bruce Banner tendencies."

There was silence for a few moments while Casey considered what they were proposing. She looked from her mom to Derek and back again, torn between safety and sanity. The irony of Derek representing sanity didn't escape her!

Casey didn't blame her mother for her cautiousness. Five years ago, Nora had been called to the hospital and told that her eldest daughter was in a coma and in a potentially life-threatening situation. She had watched her daughter claw her life back, piece by piece over a protracted five-year period. Every metaphorical step Casey had taken was like watching your baby climb the stairs for the first time. Nora's life in recent years had been watching Casey on a knife edge - and she had forgotten how to relax.

Derek, by contrast, had always been the risk taker. The maverick. But, he was the maverick who made sure Casey reached out for each step.

Nora was so scared Casey would fall she didn't encourage her to move.

Derek was scared she wouldn't even try.

Casey thought back to Derek's plans for them to move out of the family home. If her mom thought this trip was a big deal, how on earth was she going to agree to Casey moving in with Derek? Casey closed her eyes at the thought of the conflict to come.

When she opened them, Derek was watching her, intently.

"Your choice, princess." He said softly.

And suddenly it felt like there was no one else in the room as the _other_ photo from this morning flashed into Casey's head.


	6. Chapter Six - Road Trip

**Chapter Six – Road Trip**

"Are you sure you won't have some breakfast?" Nora hovered in her dressing gown just inside Casey's room at 6.45 the next morning. Her daughter was packing paperwork into a laptop bag and fussing about a missing charging cable. In the background, the doorbell rang, and Nora heard Derek go to answer it.

"It's too early, Mom" Casey answered the question somewhat distractedly. "…and Derek says we'll get breakfast in the lounge at the airport. He thinks we'll be there far too early, and we'll have time to kill." Casey found the cable and slipped it into the bag. Then she turned to her wardrobe and the half empty suitcase on her bed. "I have no idea what to pack." She fretted.

"Ah! That's where I come in." A voice said from the doorway. Casey and Nora turned around to see Bea standing there with several shopping bags in her hand. "Thank goodness for late night shopping!" She proclaimed and approached the bed. "I took the liberty of picking up some bits for you after I left here last night. The taxi guy was dead helpful and found me a late-night mall with some decent boutiques. Don't worry, you can pay me back later. Let's get packing!"

Sensing that the battle was well and truly lost and Casey's friends were going to ensure she went through with the trip, Nora withdrew tactfully and went to make some tea – and to wake George. Casey was going through with the trip and Nora needed reassurance and common sense. Or at least to hear from someone that didn't seem excited for her.

Casey groaned. "Bea, you didn't have to go to that trouble. I have clothes."

Her friend sighed. "Yes, I know you do. That's why I went to the trouble. Besides, I had to come back and collect my car this morning anyway." Bea was frowning at the open wardrobe.

"I haven't got time to re-pack, we're leaving in fifteen minutes! If I'm not ready…if I'm the one that makes us late I'll never hear the end of it…Maybe this is a bad idea." Casey sat down heavily on the end of the bed. She winced and was thankful Derek hadn't seen her.

Bea lifted the contents of Casey's suitcase out onto the pillow beside it. "There's always time to pack." She reassured her. "And, I love you to pieces but there is no way you are going away with two hot guys wearing your usual stuff."

Casey looked offended. "What's wrong with my usual stuff?"

Bea didn't even look up. "It says 'invalid', it says 'sick room' and it says 'frump'. You are none of those things anymore, Casey. It's time to refresh your image and start getting back in the game." She ripped the price tags from some pretty-looking flat pumps and placed them in the suitcase. Pairs of soft socks, colourful stretchy jeans, long sleeved tops and a couple of long cardigans with pink embroidery on them followed. Casey watched, transfixed. Since all of the clothes conformed to Casey's only clothes-buying criteria these days – namely that the garments cover her scars, she didn't object to Bea's choices. In fact, many of the items were exactly what Casey would have chosen before her accident. She did however, take issue with the sets of lace panties and bras which Bea laid on the top. There was also something made of satin which frightened Casey more than anything. And was that a swimsuit?

"Bea, I can't…" She protested.

"Yes, you can and you will." She handed Casey the remaining shopping bag. "Go change." She instructed, turning her attention to the essential items among Casey's own packing: Her toiletries and medication. Reluctantly, and looking as though she didn't understand why there was a bag in her hand, Casey made her way to the en-suite.

"We got really lucky," Bea called towards Casey's bathroom where her friend was changing. "The make-up counter was doing this awesome little makeup kit for $100. It's got everything you could possibly need in exactly the right colours for your skin tone."

Casey emerged from the bathroom half dressed, her hair all over the place. "Make-up? Who are you and what did you do with Bea?" She asked pointedly. "My hard-hitting, no-nonsense, tattooed bestie?"

"I wear make up!" Bea pointed out.

"Yes, but you never talk about it! It's just…there..." Casey sighed. "Making you look gorgeous without any effort. The 'Bea' I know would never talk skin tone."

"This _is_ me." Bea insisted. "I'm just in 'first date' mode."

Casey wrestled on the soft jumper Bea had chosen for her and pulled her hair out from the neckline. The jumper was turquoise, and Casey wondered if she had ever worn that exact shade before. When she checked herself in the mirror, she had to admit, it worked….if you ignored the dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep.

"Bea, I'm not going on a first date. I'm going to interview a witness."

Her friend waved away the objection.

"Sweetie, you are going on an overnight trip with two guys that no sensible woman would say no to." Casey raised an eyebrow. "Consecutively, I mean." Bea added with a smirk.

"What? Even the one with the green tinge?" Casey asked pointedly.

Bea flapped the idea away. "I'm sure he appeals to someone."

Casey grinned. "I'm sure he does." She chuckled. "One of us, at least." She finished dressing and emerged from the bathroom. "What do you think?" She held her hands out from her body in a pose that could have come from a dress pattern circa 1950. But, she looked good: comfortable trousers in the latest cut, the new jumper, and a stylish waistcoat to complete the look.

"No one told me I needed to bring my shot gun." Derek said from the doorway. His voice was slightly sad, and Casey looked at him with concern. Suddenly he looked tired and old beyond his years.

"Do you think it's too much?" Casey asked, slightly fretful.

"You look fine." He reassured her. "I …forget it." Derek turned tail and walked away. Casey turned to Bea.

"What was that all about?" She asked. Bea smiled.

"It means I hit the nail on the head." Casey's friend replied.

* * *

"I spend far too long waiting for women outside the washrooms." Derek sighed and looked at his watch. They were leaning up against the wall outside the airport terminal toilets, both looking effortlessly casual in jeans and leather jackets.

"That's because they are just trying to make themselves look gorgeous for you." Jazz commented. "Casey's only been five minutes and we've got ages yet, so stop looking at your watch."

Derek pulled a face. "Yeah, right. These days, the girls in the washrooms…it's just my sisters…and Casey. The only time _she_ ever spent a long time in the bathroom for me was when she tied all the toiletries in the cupboard together so everything came out when I went for my toothbrush. Oh…and the time we got locked in the bathroom when the door handle jammed." He grinned to himself.

"Well, she's definitely taking Bea's advice to heart. You have to admit, she's looking pretty hot right now." Derek gave him a penetrating look. "Speaking purely as her honorary brother, of course." Jazz added quickly. "She may never be 100% the old Casey, but she's looking pretty close to it today."

Derek shook his head. "The improvement is pretty superficial. Physically she's doing much better, but we've not even started working on her mental health."

"Does it need working on? She seems pretty healthy to me."

"She can't remember three months of her life, Jazz." Derek protested. "I know if I lost three months of my life it would drive me insane. Especially if they were important three months with events that shaped your life fundamentally."

"Are we still talking about the car accident?"

Derek didn't answer.

Jazz was thoughtful too. "Is it such a bad thing that she's forgotten the circumstances of the accident?"

Derek took a deep breath. "That's the trouble. It's been a long time since I thought it _was_ an accident." Jazz looked surprised at the remark, but before he could quiz Derek, Casey emerged from the washroom. Derek conceded to himself that Jazz was right. Casey looked good. Better than good. You'd have to be really close to see the scar at her neck, and the outfit Bea had chosen hid everything else. Casey gave him a nervous grin and Derek smiled softly back.

"I'll take your suitcase," Jazz announced, swiftly parting Casey and her wheeled carry on. Derek nodded gratefully to his friend and held out his free hand to Casey.

"Come on, MacDonald. Let's go find the lounge and some breakfast. I'm starving!"

Once she began the walk through the terminal, Casey found it increasingly easy to move. Not that it wasn't tiring, because it had been so long since she had walked any real distance, and despite her regular physiotherapy, her muscles were still weak. But Derek went from holding her hand to slipping his arm around her waist, holding her close and propelling her along beside him. She found the long period of walking less of a challenge than she had expected, and when they paused on the escalator to travel up to the next floor, Casey could answer Derek's 'How you doing so far?', with a genuine 'I'm OK'. Pleased, he smiled and squeezed her gently, pressing a small kiss into her hair. As he turned to face their direction of travel, he realised Jazz was watching him with a smirk. Derek ignored him.

* * *

The business lounge wasn't busy as the commuters had been and gone hours earlier. Jazz easily found them a corner with plenty of seating and they settled down to while away the time until their flight. Close to their seats was the extensive self-service food area. In a nod to the fact it was an international airport, there was food and drink for every meal of the day. Casey was surprised how hungry she was and didn't complain when Derek passed her a plate piled high with pancakes, scrambled eggs and breakfast sausage. Of course, his own plate was twice as big!

"I'm going for a look around the shops." Jazz announced as soon as his plate had been cleared. "Do you want to come with me, Casey?"

Casey looked up in surprise.

"Don't worry, I'll go easy on you. The only damage will be to your purse."

Casey glanced towards Derek who shrugged, even though his every instinct was to stop Casey going off with his friend. Despite Jazz's "honorary brother" comment, Derek wouldn't trust Jazz with any of his sisters, let alone Casey. Jazz beamed a victory smirk at his partner.

"We won't go far." Jazz reassured Casey as they exited the lift. "Just the shops nearest the lounge. I just thought you might like to get away from Derek for a bit."

Casey smiled. "He's ok. _His_ fussing I can deal with."

"It's the rest of your family?"

She nodded. "Not that I blame them. It's just hard to be the cause of their concern." Casey glanced up at Jazz. "You remember what they were like…before."

Jazz laughed. "Oh yeah! Coming from a single parent, no siblings home…your house was a shock to the system. Did anyone ever do anything quietly?"

"Not often, no." Casey agreed.

"Especially you and Derek." Jazz pointed out. Casey laughed.

"If you thought that was loud, you should have been there for the teenage years. We'd mellowed by the time we met you." Her eyes sparkled with the memory, and, Jazz thought, something else. "It's been a long five years." She finally acknowledged, and he didn't miss the sadness in her face.

"You miss the noise…and fighting with Derek?" Jazz asked softly. Casey shrugged.

"Not the fighting. We still do that, on occasion. I just hate that he holds back now. Reins himself in. Derek's not the worst in my family for being over-protective, but even he has his moments. And it's usually when we disagree about something. He either caves too soon, or he walks away. I just long for a full-on fight like we used to have." Casey sighed. "Sometimes, I wonder why he's still around. Derek's life plan had him married to a supermodel by now."

Derek's colleague laughed. "Let me guess, blonde and big busted?"

Casey nodded with a smile. "Something like that. Instead, he's spent the past five years lifting my broken behind in and out of wheelchairs and rehab pools. God only know what kind of social life he has!" There was a pause and Casey fixed her gaze on Jazz.

"You're asking me?" Jazz was amused.

"You're his partner. I'm assuming he talks to you about his…erm…love life. He hides it pretty well from me." She looked uncomfortable.

"And it's your business because….?"

"I'm nosy and…" Casey stopped. She actually didn't have any right to know about Derek's sex life. She definitely wasn't sure she _wanted_ to know about his sex life.

Jazz stopped walking and waited for Casey to pause too.

"Case. Derek's a cop. A good one. He works 12 hour shifts and sometimes one shift rolls into another."

"And when he's off duty he's either asleep or taking me to some medical appointment or another." Casey finished for Jazz, sadly. He nodded.

"He doesn't have time for relationships. Not even the one-night stand variety."

"When did he last go on a date?" She asked curiously.

"As far as I know?" Jazz looked out over the concourse at the people milling below. Then he turned to Casey and smiled. "The last time I heard Derek talking about taking a woman out on a date was the day you passed the Bar exam."

"Me?! That was five years ago! And it wasn't a date, it was…" Words failed her. Nice? Fun? Weak adjectives for what had been an unexpectedly amazing evening out with the guy who had morphed from her nemesis into her best friend.

"Well, that was the last time Derek confided in me about his social life." Jazz started walking again. Casey followed him, thoughtfully. "He cares about you, Casey. I don't think it particularly bothers him that he's not seeing anyone. If he felt constrained by living at home, well _then_ he'd move out."

"Ah!" Casey exclaimed. "He _hasn't_ told you!"

"Told me what?" Jazz asked motioning to some empty chairs nearby. They sat down and faced each other.

"Derek's bought an apartment. He's moving out next week." Casey enlightened Jazz, whose eyes were wide with surprise.

"Wow! I wonder why he didn't tell me?"

Casey sighed. "He's only just told me, and I don't think the family even knows yet."

Jazz thought back to his earlier comment. "It doesn't mean he's feeling constrained, honey. Don't take it personally."

Casey smiled. "I'm not taking it personally, though I _know_ he is doing it because he feels constrained at home, because he told me." She paused for dramatic effect. "He wants me to go with him."

Jazz stared at her. "He wants you to move in with him?"

"Share his apartment, yes. It's two-bedroom and it's just for a year - because he feels sorry for me. I asked him about his…erm social life and he says it won't make a difference. Made some silly comment about noise-cancelling headphones. But I thought I'd check with you that he isn't giving up too much and it won't be too inconvenient for him."

Derek's partner nodded. "Uh-huh." He commented with a small smirk. Casey glanced up at the ceiling.

"Jazz…" She warned. "

"I'd say sharing an apartment with you would make his social life a lot more convenient." Jazz chuckled.

"It's not like that."

"No, I know. But it should be."

Casey sighed. "It _isn't_ like that, Jazz. Don't forget, I'm not exactly supermodel material. You could join up my scars and it would look like the Big Dipper or Sagittarius!"

"Is that an offer?" Jazz asked with a wiggle of his eyebrows. Casey mock-smacked him and he laughed loudly. "And you are, by the way, completely gorgeous…" He told her. "…and I _totally_ would…" Casey looked at him in horror. "Except Derek would string me up by my balls and do things to my face that I don't want to think about." Casey's face relaxed. "Besides," Jazz continued. "I'm more interested in that librarian friend of yours."

"I bought you a present." Casey told Derek a short while later when they returned to the lounge.

"Oh?" Derek took the bag from Casey and opened it to peek inside.  
"Yup. Noise-cancelling headphones." She told him.

Jazz sat down in his seat with a flourish. "Yeah D. It's for the snoring."

* * *

"Glass of champagne?" The air steward asked Casey with a protracted wink.

"It's 10 o'clock in the morning." She protested.

"Ah, but it's 6pm somewhere." He smiled, leaning a little too close for Derek's comfort – particularly as he had to lean across Derek to reach Casey.

"No thank you." She insisted. "I'd like to stay awake until at least lunchtime." Derek trod on the air steward's foot, who gave up and walked away. Jazz grinned at Casey across the aisle.

"I think you were on course to make a friend." He commented. "There you go, Case. Your first outing in years and you could join the Mile-High Club." Derek muttered something unintelligible which only made Jazz chuckle harder.

Casey leaned forward and grinned at Jazz. "No thanks, Jazz. That, I believe, was Derek's ambition, not mine."

Derek groaned. "Oh for fuck's sake! I was fifteen when I came up with that one. That was almost half a lifetime ago."

Casey grinned and pointed down the aircraft aisle. "If it still needs ticking off your bucket list maybe my new friend will oblige." Her step-brother looked at her with annoyance, until his face changed suddenly.

"Or, I could just give him your number…" Derek suggested with a sing-song to his voice and a large grin.

"Don't you dare!"

Derek raised an eyebrow. "Sorry, did you just _dare_ me not to do something?" He said, reaching into his pocket for a pen. Casey squealed and leaned towards him.

"No, Derek." She insisted, grabbing the hand that was still inside his jacket. Derek grabbed her other hand with his free hand and the wrestling match began – much to Jazz's amusement.

"Now, now, children." He chided after a few moments. "Am I going to have to come and sit between you?"

"Yes!" Casey exclaimed, but it was in response to her succeeding in getting the pen from Derek. She sat back in her seat, triumphant, only to realise that the pen was, in fact, broken and her hand was covered in ink. Derek chuckled at the look on her face, until Casey reached across and picked up his hand, showing him that it was also covered in ink.

"You might want to check your jacket pocket." She pointed out. Derek's face fell and he quickly checked the leather of his beloved jacket outside and in. He looked relieved when it appeared fine.

Casey stood up to go and wash her hands, but Derek refused to let her past.

"Really?" She asked in _that_ tone of voice.

"Really." He confirmed with a smirk, before leaping up and beating her to the bathroom. Jazz shook his head at the pair of them, particularly when Derek was back in his seat before Casey returned, and the reverse argument began. This time it was resolved by Casey trying to squeeze past non-compliant Derek who grabbed hold of her and pulled her unceremoniously into his lap. Casey sat there, trapped.

"You owe me a new pen." Derek hissed into her ear as she squirmed in his lap.

"Idiot." She giggled, despite herself as she tried to wriggle free. Every time she moved, Derek tightened his grip.

"You two finished making a show of yourselves?" Jazz asked in amusement.

Casey looked round at Derek. "Are we?" She asked him, her eyes flashing. They stared at each other for a second before Derek gave her a final squeeze.

"Well I don't suppose they are going to let you sit on my lap during take-off." He agreed. "So I guess…" He released her. Casey scooted into her own seat.

"I can't take you two anywhere." Jazz complained. At that moment the air steward reappeared.

"Seat belts please!" He snapped in a tone that said he'd witnessed the whole scene. Casey caught Derek's eye and they both snorted with laughter.

* * *

It wasn't that Casey didn't try to work on the flight, and she even got about half an hour of work completed, but it didn't take long for her to start feeling sleepy. An early start and the most exercise she had done in years finally took its toll and she fell asleep, head on cushion against the window. Derek smiled at the sight and pulled the blanket up around her. He turned back towards Jazz.

"It was only a matter of time." He commented.

Jazz nodded. "I'm impressed though. She's walked a long way today."

"Yeah. She's stronger than she looks. Always has been."

Jazz glanced around him, but the business section was quiet, their fellow passengers some rows away. "So…not an accident then?" He prompted, continuing the conversation that had been interrupted earlier.

Derek glanced once more at Casey, but she was fast asleep. He leaned towards Jazz.

"It took me a while to realise." He explained. "In the early days, my focus was on Casey's survival and…stuff. But when it became clear that she was going to recover, that it would just take time, I kept thinking about the crash and how it could have all been so different. Casey's seatbelt was undone. It's why she was thrown from the car and it's why she survived. She was incredibly lucky where she landed, anywhere else in that area and she would have suffered the same injuries as Jessie, and you know he didn't make it. There was so much luck involved in the crash. After a while, I made myself pick up the investigation file, to look at the pictures. I know I was there on the scene, but Powell pulled me off the clear up and investigation as soon as I told him who Casey was. Instead he sent me to follow the ambulance to the hospital." Derek paused. "I've been forever grateful to him for that." He commented. Jazz nodded. "He was a decent guy. Straight by the book, but, compassionate all the same. You remember how he was when my mom got cancer."

Derek nodded. "When I looked at the investigation I realised that the facts just don't stack up. The calculations for the speed of the car, the direction of travel, and the skid marks and paint left on the road."

Jazz frowned. "There was paint on the road?"

"Yeah. The car rolled before it went through the barrier. Yet the report said hitting the barrier was what caused the car to roll. Of course, the car was too badly burnt to determine any of that. But, I'm fairly sure that Sophie didn't lose control of the car, or if she did it was because of something that went on beforehand. I think another car was involved."

"There was no evidence of another car at the scene?"

"It was a well-used bit of highway. There's always evidence of other cars and other car accidents left in the debris at the side of the road."

"Surely another car would have stopped…given assistance."

Derek shook his head. "Not everyone is civic minded." He commented. "Although, the paramedics told me afterwards that they were fairly sure someone had performed CPR on Casey to bring her back, and then tried to perform CPR on Jessie."

"You didn't?"

"I didn't need to. Casey had a pulse and was breathing when I got to her. Jessie was already gone." Derek slipped his hand inside his jacket pocket – the opposite one to the pen. "Then there's this." He removed his notebook and slipped from between its pages the piece of paper with the alphanumeric codes. He passed it to Jazz. "Casey had this in her hand when I found her."

Jazz examined the paper carefully. "What are these?"

Derek sighed. "Your guess is as good as mine. I've been trying to determine that for three years."

"It's alphanumeric. That implies hexadecimal. Have you tried writing it out in binary?"

Derek chuckled. "Geek! Yes, it was one of the first things I thought of. It was just gobbledegook."

Jazz pulled a face. "So it's probably just filenames then."

Derek nodded absentmindedly. "Yes, but what kind of filenames?" Then he paused as though a light had gone on in his head. "They remind me a little of those seemingly random filenames you get when you download photographs sometimes."

Jazz sat up. "Yes, exactly that. But which photographs? Where do you even start looking? If they were in Casey's hand, were they Casey's pictures?"

Derek looked thoughtful. "Her laptop and phone were destroyed in the fire."

"What about her cloud? Did they even have them back then?"

"Yes. But, I never knew her password."

Jazz looked at Derek in disbelief. Derek chuckled. "She got wise to me after the first time I cloned her laptop." His face became serious. "I wish I'd persisted with trying to hack it again though. If I could download all her old pictures it might help her regain her memory."

"Have you tried to hack it since?"

Derek took a deep breath. "I need to talk to Casey about that. It just doesn't seem right anymore. And I can't talk to her about that until she's recovered a bit more of her memory."

"Why is it so important to you that she remembers those three months?"

Derek sat back in his chair and closed his eyes. "Because our entire future depends on it." He told Jazz.

"Meaning?"

"Neither of us can move forward until Casey remembers."

* * *

"How was the flight?" Nora's voice filled the car.

Casey leaned forward as far as her seatbelt would allow. "I don't know, I don't remember most of it." She admitted.

"Casey slept for most of the flight." Derek told his stepmother. "We had complaints from the flight desk about the noise from the snoring. She was drowning out the engines."

"Moron." Casey smacked him on the back of the head. Jazz was relieved to be behind the wheel of the car.

"But you were okay…with the walking?" Nora asked.

"She was fine." Derek said, his resigned tone betraying his frustration with Casey's mom. "We almost had to get a golf cart for Jazz, but Casey managed to carry him to the gate."

Casey groaned. "Ignore Derek, I do. I was fine, mom, and I will be fine for the car journey. I'll text you when we get to the hotel." Actually, Casey was feeling more than fine. She was feeling human, and that hadn't happened in a long time.

"Stop frequently and get some exercise." Nora told her. "Perhaps you should have worn DVT socks."

Derek frowned. "In business class? They don't call it economy class syndrome for nothing, Nora."

In the rear-view mirror, Jazz gaze met Casey's eyes. They grinned at each other.

"I need to go, Mom." Casey told Nora. "Derek's planning to navigate and we all know how that could end."

Jazz hit the button to hang up and Derek turned to Casey. "Why do I have to be the bad guy? There's nothing wrong with my navigation skills."

Jazz threw him the look of a long-suffering friend, whose been there and got the medal. "Of course not. Now that we have sat nav."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Casey grinned. "Vehicular skills tend to be genetic in the Venturi family, Derek. In other words, you don't have any."

"I got us to and from Queens every vacation." He protested. "We didn't have sat nav then!"

"We didn't need sat nav. It's a straight line!"

Jazz grinned at his friend. "She's got you there."

"Pull over!" Derek demanded. "Casey can walk."

Jazz shook his head. "The driver gets to choose shotgun – and quite frankly, Casey's better looking."

Happy in her new-found freedom – and the banter, Casey sat back in her seat and gazed out of the window.

"Autumn is a lovely time of the year. I can't remember the last time I went on a road trip." She commented.

"Niagara." Derek said in a matter of fact tone, also looking out of the window.

Casey frowned.

"The last time you went on a road trip." He turned around to look at her. "I took you to Niagara."

Casey was thoughtful. A memory of the waterfalls, snow and ice filled her mind. Waterfalls and Derek, hot chocolate and warmth. Something about the memory made her blush, and Derek, who was watching her closely, hid a smirk.

"Remember?" He asked softly.  
"Not exactly. I remember feelings rather than proper images." She admitted. "You embarrassed me in some way, but I can't remember how."

He grinned broadly. "You will!"

They stopped at the halfway mark and Derek took over the driving. Casey decided to sit in the front leaving Jazz to have the back seat to himself.

"Are you sure it's safe for Derek to drive with you next to him?" Jazz asked, stretching out and making himself as comfortable as his seat belt would let him.

"A lot safer than if Derek drove and I sat in the back." Casey informed him. "Think rally driving."

"I'd rather not."

Derek turned around and confronted his co-pilot. "You want to drive?" He demanded of Casey.

"Yes," She nodded. "Unfortunately, I'm not cleared for driving yet."

"Well then…" He instructed. "Belt up."

Bickering softly, they made their way north from the city and out into the countryside. After a while, Jazz fell asleep on the back seat.

"He gone." Casey told Derek in a silly voice. Derek chuckled.

"How do you remember our stupid college sayings and the rest of the crap and not some of the most important events in recent years?" He demanded.

Casey shrugged. "Maybe I'm avoiding pain." She suggested. Derek glanced at her and then back at the road. "That much I'd worked out." He told her, and she couldn't miss the tension in his voice. Casey looked at him with concern.

"Why did everything suddenly get serious?" She asked nudging him gently.

Derek glanced at her quickly and then back to the road.

"That _was_ a bit emo, wasn't it?" He agreed. "Perhaps we should just go back to arguing."

Casey grinned. "You brought me on this trip to give me a break…so give me a break!" She nudged him again. Derek overtook a slower car in front of him and dropped back into his lane.

"I've never given you a break, MacDonald and I'm not about to start now." He informed her with a grin. "The hotel has a swimming pool. I want thirty lengths from you when we get there. You've been neglecting your physio."

Casey pulled a face. "I've already done a lot of exercise today." She objected.

"Then you'll be nicely warmed up." He told her. "And it will help you sleep. I don't want you tossing and turning all night keeping me awake."

Casey frowned. "How will my tossing and turning keep you awake?" She asked, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. "Derek…you did book me a room of my own, didn't you?"

"Now why would I do that?" Derek's voice had a sing-song note to it.

Casey sighed. "I don't know…maybe…because I'd like some _privacy_?"

Derek glanced at her and then back to the road. "You'll get privacy, Jazz has a room of his own. But, and you'll never believe this, it was one of the conditions your mom set. I had to change the separate double rooms I'd booked for you and for me to adjoining rooms, 'in case she needs you'. They didn't have any adjoining rooms, so I used my initiative. Twin room."

"Why would I "need" you?" Casey asked with a resigned tone.

Derek shrugged. "Because apparently although you can walk through an airport terminal with ease, you are incapable of getting up to go to the bathroom in the night without falling over."

"I haven't fallen over in four months!" Casey protested. "And it's been over a year since I had to use the panic alarm." Casey went to pull at the lanyard which usually sat at her neck. It wasn't there. "Where _is_ my alarm?"

"I took it off you while you were asleep." Derek told her. "You don't need it."

Casey paused. "Okay." She decided. "Thank you." She rubbed the back of her neck as if feeling the physical absence of the lanyard. "Mom won't be pleased."

Derek breathed in heavily through his nose. "Nora can take a running jump!" He said through tight teeth. "Casey, do you want to feel normal; to get back to the things you used to do?"

"Of course, I do! And I didn't think I was that far away from something approaching normality." She protested.

"You aren't. Today just goes to prove it. Which is why the change in the way you and the rest of the family think needs to happen now. Not next month, not next year." He ran his hand through his hair. "Princess, I'm not trying to push you." He turned to look at her. Casey raised an eyebrow. Derek smirked. "Ok, maybe, I am trying to push you, but only because you're crawling when we both know you can run."

"Derek, I get it. And I agree. So, don't spring stuff on me, let's talk about it. Okay? How about you say something like 'Casey, fancy a swim?', rather than bark 'Go, Swim!' at me like an order."

"But, I love ordering you around. You never used to let me get away with it when we were kids."

"I'm not letting you get away with it _now_!" She informed him. Derek chuckled.

"Do you know how long I've been waiting for you to start fighting back?" He asked, gently. They exchanged a glance and a smile.

"A decent fight is a two-way process, Venturi." Casey pointed out, turning back to the window. "You get out of it what you put into it. Personally, I think you've become rusty; lost your touch."

"Did you deliberately wait until I was driving to say that?"

"Of course not."

"Because them's fighting words, sister."

Casey turned her head round quickly. "So's _that_ word!" She objected.

"It's an expression, Casey." Derek was amused at her reaction.

"We agreed that we wouldn't use that word."

"Brother!" Derek exclaimed dramatically. "You sure are touchy."

"Derek…"

He laughed. "You are so easy…"

Casey narrowed her eyes at him.

"…to wind up." He finished.

Jazz groaned in the back of the car. "Seriously, you guys. Get a room!"


	7. Chapter Seven - Step Back in Time

**Chapter 7 - Step back in time**

 _ **Kingston, eight years previously.**_

" _I'm sorry, Case. I guess I've been lying to myself all this time, more than I was lying to you." Jessie looked thoroughly depressed and Casey didn't have the heart to be angry with him. She glanced around the bar, watching other people get on with their lives. Maybe it was just the contrast to her own emotions, but to a fault – or at least Casey's eyes - they all looked happy. Only Jessie's face mirrored Casey's emotions._

 _"When you've met the love of your life," She told him. "Aren't you supposed to look a little happier about it?" It was a lame joke, but sometimes your sense of humour just fails you._

 _Jessie smiled weakly. "I've still got to persuade him of that." He told her. "I haven't even said 'hi' yet." He squeezed Casey's hand. "I just know that I feel differently about him than I do about you, and it's not fair to you to go on pretending."_

 _Casey nodded. "It's all fine, Jessie." She told him, though it clearly wasn't. "You were honest with me. That counts for so much." She chuckled. "In fact, you must be gay. You've treated me with respect and consideration since we started dating. There's no way you're straight."_

 _Jessie laughed. "I guess the 'no sex' rule was a giveaway?"_

 _Casey nodded. "Most guys push for the physical. You didn't. I should have known it was too good to be true." She smiled at him. "It's okay. Honestly." Surprisingly, she meant it._

 _"Can your new, best, gay friend take you out for hot chocolate and cake and a moan about the bastard who just dumped you?" Jessie asked. Despite herself, Casey grinned._

 _"Chocolate and cake sound good." She agreed and grabbed her purse, ready to move. Coffee and cake would mean changing venue. This was a student bar. It had two non-alcoholic drinks, coke and water._

 _But before they could even stand up and make their way to the local coffee shop, a guy dressed in almost full hockey kit came staggering over._

 _"You're Casey MacDonald, aren't you?" He said panting from the exertion, it appeared, of running. Casey looked out of the window and into the distance to where the building housing the ice hockey rink was located, a mile away. She looked down at his feet and noticed he was wearing socks but no boots or trainers. She looked back up at him. He really didn't look well._

 _"Yes, why?"_

 _Then she groaned._

" _Is this some kind of Derek prank? Coz I'm really not in the mood."_

 _The hockey player bent over to try to catch his breath and Casey heard him draw air into his beleaguered lungs. "Do you need medical attention?" She asked in concern. He shook his head._

 _"It's Venturi…" he panted. "Someone told me they had seen you here. There's been an accident…on the rink. They are taking him to the hospital."_

 _Casey's eyes widened and her face paled. But Jessie responded with more practicality._

 _"Which hospital?" He barked at the hockey player, and then on receiving the answer, he reached for his car keys._

* * *

 _"Sam!" Casey exclaimed in relief, almost running to the set of plastic chairs at the end of the hospital corridor. "What are you doing here?" It was a good question as they were in Kingston and Sam was studying at the University of Toronto._

 _"Weekend visit." Derek's best friend replied as he hugged her. "Not quite the eventful Friday night out Derek promised me." Sam jerked his head towards a nearby door._

 _Casey nodded. "How is he?" She asked, taking a seat beside him._

 _"They are still assessing him. He'll live, obviously, but the leg…I've got to be honest, it's not good, Case. It looked career-ending to me."_

 _Casey closed her eyes. "That bad?" she groaned. Hockey was Derek's life. Everything he had planned for the years to come was based on his making a success of the sport. Lifestyle, women, but most importantly, his future income._

 _Sam sighed. "It's a bad break. The kind that takes forever to heal and, potentially, would re-break in an instant on the ice. No team is going to take him on."_

 _Casey felt a lump in her throat at the assessment that would end Derek's dream. "Does he know?" She swallowed, heavily._

 _Sam shook his head. "God, no! They've got him high as a kite, right now."_

 _Casey took a deep breath. "Did you call home?"_

 _Sam nodded. "George is on his way. Hopefully, we'll know more by the time he gets here."_

 _"And Marcia?" Casey mentioned Derek's girlfriend, reluctantly. Casey didn't like her. Since Derek had started seeing her, the 'accidental family' reunions on campus had both reduced in number and increased in snark. Casey didn't like Marcia, Marcia didn't like Casey and Derek was caught somewhere in the middle._

 _There was a pause. "Apparently, Marcia was last spotted wrapped around Derek's reserve goal keeper." Sam told her. "They'd barely got Derek off the ice and into the ambulance before she was on to the next hot shot."_

 _"I wish I could say that came as a surprise to me." Casey told Sam. "but…"_

 _"…yeah. Not a shocker for me, either." Derek's school friend told her. He paused, "You look good, Case. Your new guy must be something special.  
Casey snorted. "Derek told you about Jessie?" She queried. Sam shrugged._

 _"He might have mentioned something." Sam admitted. The reality was Derek had gone on and on about the guy, but though he didn't like that Casey had picked him, even Derek had to admit Jessie was respectful of her._

 _Casey sniffed. "Yeah, well. I'd refer you to the Marcia situation…but, actually Jessie doesn't deserve that. It's over, though."_

 _"Ah." Sam nodded. "Derek didn't say anything."_

 _"Derek doesn't know." Casey told his friend. "It's too recent."_

 _Sam nodded. "And the guy hovering?" He said, nodding over Casey's shoulder._

 _"That's Jessie. Crap Boyfriend. Awesome friend." She grinned. "Sound familiar?"_

 _Her (first) ex-boyfriend laughed. Then he became serious. "What do we do about D?" He asked._

 _Casey looked towards the door leading to Derek's hospital room._

" _Let me." She told Sam. "He hates me anyway."_

* * *

 _About an hour later, the nursing staff finally let Casey (and only Casey) into Derek's room. She had had to prove their familial connection, which Casey always hated doing. It made people think of her as Derek's sister, and actually they were – recent interactions regarding Marcia excepting – slightly more than that. Brothers and sisters just take it for granted that they will connect and get on. Derek and Casey had had to work hard to reach their current relationship status of "friends". Casey knew that their issue wasn't lack of feeling, but, rather, too much emotion. If neither of them cared, ignoring each other would have been so much easier._

 _Since Casey didn't have a lifetime to explain this to the nurses guarding access to Derek's room, her driving licence proving they lived together at home had to do._

 _Derek was asleep. His leg was under traction at a ridiculous angle, so Casey knew he must be sleeping under the effect of a significant amount of opiate. He looked peaceful and she hated the fact that his dreams were about to be shattered. But the doctors had confirmed the worst. He was unlikely to play hockey at a competitive level again. Casey approached the bedside and drew up the easy chair that had been placed there for visitors._

 _It was going to be a long night._

 _She pulled out her phone, switched it to vibrate and tapped out a message for George to see the next time he paused on the journey to Kingston._

 _ **I'm with Derek. He's asleep. Drive safely. X**_

 _Then she settled down to wait._

 _After a while, a combination of warm hospital, watching Derek sleep and the stress of Jessie dumping her AND finding out Derek was in hospital, finally caught up with Casey. She laid her head on the mattress beside Derek's hand and drifted off to sleep herself._

 _It might have been minutes later, it might have been hours, but eventually, something brushed her head gently._

" _You have beautiful hair. It always makes me want to run my fingers through it." A voice stated clearly, waking her up. Casey lifted her head and found Derek watching her closely._

" _Why so sad princess? You never smile enough. You're so lovely when you smile. It gives me butterflies in my tummy."_

 _Casey frowned and drew back to look at her step-brother carefully. He was wearing a silly grin and the look in his eyes was puppy-like. Unable to touch her hair anymore, he took hold of her hand and pulled it to his lips to kiss her fingers. Casey's frown deepened as she pulled her fingers from his grasp._

" _Don't snatch, Princess." He told her. "It's rude to snatch."_

" _Who are you and what have you done with Derek?" Casey asked cautiously._

 _Derek giggled. "I am Derek Venturi. Hockey player and god. Women throw themselves to their knees and beg me to date them." He winked at Casey. "But I'd ditch them all for one night with you, what do you say? I'm feeling really horny and there's a convenient bed here, if I could just disconnect whatever this thing is." He pulled at the wires of the traction unit and Casey noticed his skin whitened significantly. Then she looked into his eyes and saw the tell-tale pinprick pupils caused by the medication the machine next to the bed was pumping into Derek. There was also a shadow of pain, no doubt caused by his playing with the traction wires, that was too great for the morphine to hide._

 _Sam had been right. Derek was as high as a kite._

 _Casey smiled and became placatory._

" _Somehow I don't think the nurses would be too happy if you disconnected your leg from the traction unit. Not when they've gone to all that trouble to get it just right. So be careful with those wires, Derek. It'll will hurt you far more than you might think if you disconnect them. Besides, there isn't enough room on the bed for two people."_

" _There only needs to be room for one." Derek gave her another long wink. "Do you want to go on top or shall I?"_

 _Despite herself and despite what Derek was saying, Casey giggled._

" _See I told you that you'd look hotter if you just smiled." Derek told her. He reached for the pulleys again._

 _Casey batted his hand away from the wires._

" _Leave them, Derek. You do realise who you are talking to, don't you?"_

" _Of course! My beautiful, uptight step-sister. Who would rather fight with me than do something we'd both find more pleasurable. You do realise that adult steppies sleeping together isn't illegal, don't you?"_

" _Steppies?" Casey pulled a face. Derek ignored her._

" _Don't you ever wonder, if we fight so passionately, just how hot the sex would be?"_

" _I can't say sex with you has ever crossed my mind." Casey lied._

" _That's because you have no imagination." Derek told her. "Don't worry, I have more than enough for the both of us." He wiggled his eyebrows._

 _Casey was finding this very amusing._

" _Derek," She groaned, struggling to hide a smile._

" _I bet I could make you moan louder than that." Derek told her, confidentially._

" _No doubt you could." Casey admitted. Their eyes met. "But, your father will be here shortly, and we are in a hospital. I'm fairly sure, sex in a hospital breaks a few state laws or something."_

" _Spoilsport!" Derek retorted. "You have no idea what you are missing."_

 _Casey snorted. "Oh, I wouldn't say that." She told him, wiggling her little finger, pointedly._

" _That's a complete lie!" Derek complained. He frowned. "I'll prove it!" he exclaimed and threw back the bedclothes._

 _Casey's eyes widened as it appeared Derek was planning to lift up his hospital night gown and reveal all to her.  
"No, Derek." She insisted, grabbing hold of the sheets and attempting to keep him covered up. Derek took advantage of her distraction to wrap an arm around her waist and pull her towards him._

" _I missed you." He said. "Stop wriggling, I'm being serious here." Casey glanced at his face. It was sincere, but the eyes were still pin pricks._

 _Casey stood still. Derek released her but took her hand. Casey decided she would rather he held her hand than try to take his clothes off. She hooked the leg of the chair with her own foot to drag it closer to the bed. Then she sat down and gave him her free hand._

" _Where have you been recently?" He asked. "You haven't been at my games."_

" _You didn't invite me." Casey explained._

 _Derek wasn't happy with her answer. "That's never stopped you before." He complained lacing their fingers together. His hands were soft and warm. Casey reminded herself this was all make believe. There had been times in the past when she had wanted a bit more gravitas in Derek's manner towards her. She had not realised it would take morphine to achieve it._

" _We tried to contact Marcia…" She began._

" _Bitch!" Derek snorted. Casey snatched her hands back._

 _He rolled his eyes at her. "Not you, silly." He giggled. "Ask yourself where she is right now. On second thoughts, we probably don't want to know."_

" _I'm sorry, Derek.' Casey apologised._

" _Why?_ _ **You're**_ _always faithful to me. You never fight with anyone else."_

 _Casey chuckled. "I guess not." She took hold of his hand. "No one gives good repart_ _e_ _e the way you do."_

" _Hey, you're right, I give the best parties." Derek nodded. Casey giggled again._

" _I'm so screwed." Derek said softly a while later. Casey looked up at him from where she was sitting next to the bed. The humour and silliness had gone from his face, the eyes remained the same pinpricks, but with a sadness about them. Derek squeezed her hand. "Be honest with me, sweetheart. Coz everyone else keeps dodging the subject."_

 _Casey tilted her head to one side. "Honest about what, D?" Though she knew._

" _Hockey's gone, isn't it?" Derek sounded vulnerable, like a small child. There was a long pause before Casey could answer. She sat forward._

" _That's what they are telling me to tell you." She admitted, eventually. "This kind of injury is normally a career stopper." She watched Derek take a deep breath. "But, you've never followed the rules. Life has always been on your terms. Let us take every day as it comes."_

" _Us?" He queried._

" _Figure of speech. Don't worry, I'll ditch you as soon as your father gets here."_

 _Derek grinned at her. "Liar! You've never deserted me…even when I was at my most annoying." Casey smiled back._

 _Derek sighed. "There go the butterflies again." He told her._

 _Then the hospital door opened and saved them both._

* * *

 **Current Day. A hotel room somewhere north of Quebec City.**

The alarm clock buzzed to tell Casey it was time to move. It was 5.00pm. She opened her eyes and stared at the hotel room ceiling, reliving that night in Derek's hospital room. She could have thought of it as the start of something, but their friendship was too nuanced for that. Derek was right. Casey had never abandoned him when he needed her.

Just as he had always been there when it counted.

Since the gap in her memory had appeared following her accident, her dreams had become far more realistic – every one of them was an event that had really happened, almost as if her mind was reinforcing what was real. The irony of this dream was written large and clear. Casey sitting beside Derek's hospital bed, telling him that something life-changing had happened to him, but he could fight it. When, just a few short years later, the tables had turned, and it was Derek holding Casey's hand at her bedside; telling her they would fight the prediction that she would never walk again.

And they had.

Sometimes, Casey thought, Derek had fought harder for her future than he had for his own. One day she would find out why.

Despite Nora's prediction, Casey had managed the journey north with Derek and Jazz, though it had made her very tired. She had napped on the plane but found it difficult to nap in the car. Reluctant to push her recovery to breaking point, Derek and Jazz had taken themselves off to the hotel gym for an hour, while Casey went to bed.

But, Derek wasn't letting her off the physio he had mentioned earlier and now it was time for a swim.

Casey emerged from the changing rooms in her bathrobe. Its collar was turned up to her hairline and she was firmly gripping the cord at her waist. From the pool, Derek watched her walk around to the shallow end and stop. There were only a handful of people in the pool area, a family of four, a young couple, Derek and Jazz. The latter was doing lengths in a very determined way in the area roped off for serious swimmers. The family were in a smaller toddler pool off to one side, and the young couple were so into each other, Derek was concerned they might start shedding clothes any second. Derek swam to the edge of the pool and looked up at Casey.

"Just dive in." He told her. "Everyone else is oblivious. It's just you and me."

Casey hesitated. "I'm used to having the pool to myself. Or sharing it with people who don't judge." Derek had been there for her physio sessions. He guessed she meant the other people who were scarred. Derek hauled himself out onto the side and stepped towards her. Casey stepped backwards.

"What?!" Derek asked, confused.

"The last time I refused to get into the pool you threw me in." She pointed out. Derek laughed.

"I'd forgotten about that." He admitted. "Actually, I wasn't planning on doing that again." He told her. "It's a hotel. They would probably throw us both _out_ of the pool." He reached over and loosened her grip on the cord of the robe. "Honestly, no one is interested in your scars, honey. You can lose the robe, because they'll be…"

The robe opened.

Derek stepped back as the gaping gown revealed Casey's swimsuit. "…they'll be too busy looking at your…erm…chest! WTF! Is that Bea's work, again?!"

"Now you know why I was so nervous about getting in the pool!" Casey told him, with a blush that extended further on her body than he'd seen in years. The swimsuit was not exactly revealing, more _accentuating_ , cut to emphasise parts of Casey's anatomy that didn't need further emphasis. Derek swallowed hard.

"DO the robe back up!" He ordered. Casey pulled a face at him.

"Ok. On second thoughts, dive in! Quickly, then no one will see." He told her, his treacherous eyes straying to the prominent parts. Casey folded her arms across her chest.

"Except you." She pointed out. There was amusement in her voice, however.

Derek ignored her comment. "And stay away from Jazz." He instructed her. Casey rolled her eyes at him. Then she walked further around the pool to the deep end, avoiding the diving board.

While Derek watched, Casey slipped the robe from her shoulders, positioned herself on the edge of the pool and dived in. Perfectly. Derek appreciated the grace of the movement. It was impressive by any standards, particularly from someone with a metal hip joint and half a hardware shop in both legs.

But, actually, all Derek could really think about was that he had to share a room with this woman later that night. And he had to behave.

Jazz swam up to him. "Just how serious were you about 'Male Code Blue'?" He asked, nodding towards Casey.

"Don't even think about it, asshole." Derek wasn't taking his eyes off Casey who was swimming lengths now.

Jazz laughed. "I'd forgotten how beautiful she is."

Derek turned to look at him. "Yeah, well I always said you needed glasses." He leaned against the side, his eyes finding Casey again.

Jazz watched his friend carefully, noting all the emotions as they passed over Derek's face. Then he leaned against the wall beside him. "Why don't you just tell her?" Jazz asked quietly.

"Tell her what?" Derek asked, distractedly.

"How you feel about her."

"Casey knows." Derek muttered without breaking his gaze. "She just needs to remember."

Jazz sighed. "Ah. Now the mystery of Derek and Casey becomes a little bit clearer."

Derek frowned. "Really? Because I've never understood it. Why, just as you think you've finally got your life on track, stuff happens…"

Jazz nodded. "The world is a pretty shite place at times."

Oblivious, Casey continued with her lengths. She liked swimming. It had always been a good way to keep her muscles toned after an injury, even when she was a child. The relief when she had first entered the hospital pool, nearly five years ago, had been overwhelming. Memories of that day replayed in her mind as she ploughed through the water.

" _I'm not sure I'm ready to." Casey had objected as they outlined the plan to her as she lay in the hospital bed._

" _It will be really good for keeping your muscles working." The physiotherapist told her. "The water will take your weight. Your arms will propel you through the water and I can help you with some leg exercises."_

 _Nora had frowned. "Are you sure it's not too soon?" She asked._

" _Actually, we've left it quite late." The doctor admitted. "I was concerned about Casey's blood pressure fluctuations and the possibility of her passing out in the water. But, if we don't try now, there's a real chance that Casey's muscles will never recover enough for her to get back on her feet."_

 _In the corner of the room, Derek sat so quietly, everyone had forgotten his presence._ _It was a tactic he'd adopted from the moment they brought Casey into the hospital. If he stayed quiet, no one questioned why he was there. It helped that his night shift duties meant he could be there when the rest of the family wasn't. Today, however, the doctor had called Nora in to discuss Casey's physio during a time when normally it was just Casey and Derek._

 _Derek didn't like Nora's consultations with the doctor. It felt like the wrong person was making decisions about Casey. Not that he wanted the job, but everyone seemed to think Casey was weaker than she actually was. Including Casey._

 _When the doctor, Nora and the Physio went outside to continue the discussion, Derek moved to Casey's side._

" _A swim, huh?" Derek said with a grin. "About time you had a decent bath."_

 _Casey looked panicked. "Do I smell?" She lifted an arm and sniffed her arm pit. "They gave me a bath this morning."_

 _Derek took that as an invitation to lean close to her neck. His lips just inches from her skin. He pulled back._

" _You smell of hospitals, Casey. Hygienically clean, but there's nothing healthy about it." He sat forward. "Aren't you sick of being in this bed?"_

 _Casey frowned at him. "Of course, I am. I've been here for so long."_

" _Well, here's your chance to make a break for freedom." He told her._

" _What am I supposed to do? Crawl to the door while mom's not looking?"_

 _Derek sighed. "I didn't mean that type of escape. I meant that here's a way for you to get some time out of bed. If you're lucky, maybe the physio has a hot assistant who can lift you in and out of the pool."_

 _Casey groaned. "That's part of the problem, Derek"_

 _Derek frowned. "What is?"_

" _It's one thing for the doctors and the nurses to see…to see my scars." She forced herself to explain. "I'm not sure I'm ready for the rest of the world to see them. I've seen the look in mom's eyes when she sees my body. And that's my own mother."_

 _Derek took a deep breath and swallowed past a lump. He took her hand._

" _Honey, I saw you lying, broken, on the ground. Believe me, the scars are a massive improvement. Besides, they'll fade."_

" _Then perhaps I should wait until they do."_

 _Derek shook his head. "You snooze, you lose. You heard the guy. They've left it too long as it is. Case, there will be two sets of people in that pool. Those who are doing their job and, believe me, will have seen a_ lot _worse sights than the healing body of Casey MacDonald, and the others will be other patients with similar stories." He grinned. "And all of_ _ **them**_ _will be wishing they_ _ **had**_ _the body of Casey MacDonald."_

 _Casey snorted. "Even the men?"_

 _Derek smirked. "Especially the men."_

" _Moron." Casey murmured, catching his meaning._

" _Let's give it a go." Derek suggested. "Think of it as an amazing bath. After all, with all that chlorine they'll have to do a proper job of washing your hair afterwards."_

 _Casey looked thoughtful. This was one of her bug bears. The hospital had insisted on cutting her long hair to a short crop and then made her use dry shampoo rather than help her wash her hair every day._

" _A decent bath does sound amazing." She agreed dreamily._

" _I'll tell you what," Derek began. "I'll come with you when you do the session and if anyone looks at you funny, I'll push them in the pool."_

 _Casey smiled weakly._

 _Later that day, Casey literally took the plunge. Leaving the privacy of her little hospital room for the echoing confines of the physiotherapy pool was a challenge in itself. But, Casey's favourite nurse had helped her into a hospital swimming costume and robe, and then lowered her into the wheelchair. Up until a few weeks ago, she hadn't spent much time sitting upright. The change in position had made her blood pressure rise and fall unpredictably. But, they had started sitting her in the easy chair beside her bed_ _for as much time as possible in the day and now it felt quite normal to be sitting in the wheelchair, although Casey wasn't sure she would ever get used to being propelled around by someone else. Especially by Derek, who now had his hands on the wheelchair._

 _"Right!" he announced. "Welcome aboard the Venturi express. First stop, Pool Party!"_

 _"You will take it easy, won't you, Derek" Nora fussed from the sidelines.  
"Of course, Step-Mom." Derek lied. "Don't forget I've got my driving instructor in the chair. It was Casey who got me my licence."_

 _Nora smiled. "Ah! But you've had high speed pursuit driving instruction since then."_

 _Derek paused and looked thoughtful. "Good point." He leaned closer to Casey. "How would you feel if I tricked this ride out with some blues and twos?"_

 _"I think I've had enough rides in vehicles with blue lights flashing." Casey commented wryly._

 _Derek nodded. "Point taken. Let's go Sisco!"_

 _"Please tell me you didn't just call me…" Casey started, but Derek had already set off, pushing her wheelchair at speed down the corridor._

 _Somehow, they arrived safely at the poolside. Casey watched bemused as Derek treated herself and the physio to a sideshow as he stripped his sweatshirt and jogging bottoms off, revealing a t-shirt and swim shorts._

 _"Derek, What are you doing?" Casey asked, embarrassment colouring her voice._

 _Derek smirked and winked at one of the other patients in the room._

 _"I told you, the physio has a hot new assistant." He replied and bent towards her. "Let's get you in the pool."_

 _Skilfully, showing that some advanced communication – and training – had gone on between Casey's physio and Derek, the latter helped the professional to manoeuvre Casey from the wheelchair into the hoist at the side of the pool. Casey didn't fail to notice that her step-brother stood between her and the occupants of the room at all times, blocking them from her view – or more importantly – vice versa. As soon as Casey was in the water, Derek jumped in and helped her from the hoist._

 _She floated in the warm water, her arms out-stretched and locked with Derek's. Their faces at arms-length, but their emotions pretty close._

 _"How does that feel?" He asked her, the lump catching in his throat again._

 _Casey smiled. "Perfect. Thank you." And then they both turned to follow the physio's instructions._


	8. Chapter Eight - Honesty

**Chapter 8 - Honesty**

"You know, you do have to ask yourself, if this is truly worth it." The woman sitting on the cold bench to Lizzie's right asked. Lizzie, head resting against the painted wall her eyes closed, shrugged.

"If we don't do it, no one else will. All it takes for evil to win is for good people to do nothing." She recited it like a mantra, though only Lizzie truly knew the depth of her belief.

"I get that, I really do. I'm committed to the cause." Lizzie's friend replied. "It's just I hate these orange jumpsuits and…I'd kill for a burger right now."

"Veggie?" Lizzie opened her eyes.

"Nope. 8oz beef steak, Canadian bacon, American cheese and oozing with relish."

Lizzie laughed and closed her eyes again. "Don't tell these guys that. They'll have it here in an instant, providing you sign on the dotted line."

"I ain't confessing to nothing." Lizzie's companion insisted.

"Double negative, Cecy. Sounds like you're confessing to something to me."

The older woman frowned. "You've too many smarts for your own good, girl." She said scratching her head.

"I've just had it rammed into me my whole life." Lizzie told her. "A keener sister who never lets my grammar slip. Smarts has nothing to do with it."

"Someone taking my name in vain." A voice said from the corridor. Lizzie's eyes flicked open with a start. She stood up and moved to the bars.

"Smartie?" She called uncertainly just as a young girl appeared in front of her.

"You rang?" Lizzie's youngest sister quipped. Lizzie grinned and reached through the bars.

"You angel! What a sight for sore eyes!" Actually, Lizzie should have stopped at 'a sight'. Marti looked like an explosion in a thrift shop, a carefully constructed montage of deliberately mis-matched clothes. Lizzie wasn't sure what colour Marti was going for in the hair department, but it missed 'carrot' only by two shades.

"I'm here to spring you from this joint." Marti jerked her head towards the corridor behind her, just as a junior constable appeared. He looked like he was limping.

"I'm not confessing." Lizzie insisted folding her arms.

"You don't need to," Martha Venturi nodded slowly. "As _your Attorney…_ I have advised the officers that their holding you is a violation of your constitutional rights."

"It is?" Lizzie and her fellow prisoner spoke in unison. Lizzie met Marti's eyes, wondering when a young girl of 19 whose major was Textiles and Fashion had managed to pass the bar. Marti winked at her.

"I've provided the proper paperwork." Marti stated looked pointedly at the constable. "You're going to be released. **Right now**."

* * *

It took a while to process Lizzie and her friend, and then a little longer to persuade the friend that now was not the time to celebrate with a burger at the nearest sports bar. The two sisters wanted privacy.

After Cecy had gone, Lizzie and Marti headed for a Chinese restaurant the other side of town. Lizzie was relieved to be back in her jeans. Cecy was right about the jumpsuits.

"Sorry I missed your graduation." Lizzie told Marti. "Another lawyer in the family. George must be so proud." There was a heavy load of sarcasm in her voice.

Marti coughed with embarrassment and her eclectic armful of bangles chimed.

"Yeah, well… the paperwork looked authentic…ish" She admitted with a wry smile.

Lizzie curled an eyebrow, "And the constable didn't notice?" Marti smirked.

"He might have done. Unfortunately, he decided to try and cop a feel rather than read it." She shrugged. "I might have over reacted. It's the penalty of having a cop for a brother. A brother who enrolled me in self-defence lessons before I went to college."

Lizzie nodded. "I thought the constable was walking funny."

Their eyes met, and they chuckled.

"You're lucky you didn't get arrested." Lizzie told her little sister.

Marti shrugged. "They tried. Then I called Derek. Turns out, Vancouver PD now owes Toronto PD a 'solid'. You should have heard him shouting! The phone line was irrelevant because he was loud enough to be heard from the other side of the country."

Their drinks arrived, and Lizzie sipped her beer before starting her interrogation. The restaurant was quiet, and the food was good. It was exactly what they needed as a venue to catch up.

"Vancouver." Liz stated. "Long way from campus. Long way for a 'quick' visit."

Marti nodded and sipped her own beer. The sight of Marti with a drink in her hand was something Lizzie found hard to accept – although it was completely legal.

"It's just for the weekend." Marti answered. "I go back first thing on Monday morning."

Lizzie frowned. "But it must have taken you hours, and you'll have a similarly long journey home." She protested. Marti shrugged.

"I flew." She explained. "I'll be back before my first lecture."

"How the hell did you afford that?" Lizzie demanded. "What have you been doing?"

Slightly taken aback, Marti chuckled. "Well not selling my body, if that's what you think."

Her sister shrugged apologetically. "But, you got the money from somewhere…" Lizzie informed her.

Marti laughed. "Yup from some dodgy banker in a chalk-strip suit."

Her grin widened significantly at Lizzie's expression. "Ed. I got the money from Ed." She explained. Lizzie finally got the dodgy banker joke.

"He still has some money?" Lizzie sounded surprised. "I thought his assets were frozen."

"Of course he has money! This is Ed we're talking about. Hiding his money from the government is just like hiding his money from Derek when we were kids. Except he tells me it takes less effort hiding it from the state."

Lizzie chuckled. "So why come here? I mean, not that I'm not ecstatic to see you…"

Marti picked up the complimentary glass of water and took two sips. She put the glass down and did the same with her beer.

"I got your email." She said simply. Lizzie frowned. "The one about Derek moving out." Marti elaborated. "I decided we need to talk." Lizzie nodded her agreement.

"When did he tell you?" Lizzie asked, genuinely curious. The MacDonald-Venturis consisted of a variety of interpersonal relationships, alliances, even a couple of close friendships. There were the obvious pairings, the old loyalties and the new accommodations. They all cared deeply about each other in one way or another, but Derek and Marti were tight. They always had been. Marti was the second female in the world Derek had ever loved. The first being his mom.

The jury was out on the third.

"He didn't." Marti admitted reluctantly. "The bastard kept it quiet…until this afternoon when he wanted to know why I was in Vancouver, needing to be bailed out as I tried to bail you out. I made it clear it was all his fault."

Their food arrived at this point and there was a pause in the conversation whilst they dealt with the waitress. Lizzie took the opportunity to watch Marti carefully. Derek not telling Marti about his plans was surprising. Marti looked a little cross. Lizzie decided not to push for information, but to wait until Marti spoke.

"Did you know he's in Quebec, with Casey?" Marti mentioned casually. Lizzie's eyes widened.

"No…" She said cautiously. "Doing what?"

Marti snorted. "That depends on who you ask. If you talk to your mom, he's pushing her too hard, wearing her out and endangering her well-being."

They both rolled their eyes.

"And what does Derek say?"

Marti shrugged. "They are with his partner, Jazz, interviewing a potential witness in a homicide case. Some guy Casey used to know way back before…" Marti 's voice trailed away. It was difficult for all of them to talk about that time. "Apparently, there is some connection to Casey's old dance troop."

Lizzie let the information sink in. "He took Casey with him."

Marti nodded. "I think he's trying to sort her memories out. He **says** she needs a change of scenery."

"He's got that right." Lizzie sighed. "I wish mom would just ease off. I mean, it's been five years. Casey's doing so well."

Marti nodded. "I guess Nora's just worried about her relapsing. Unlikely though that is." She manipulated her food with her chopsticks in a well-practiced way. Lizzie was impressed.

"Where did you learn that?" She asked her sister, remembering Marti as a child insisting on using a fork for her Chinese food.

Marti smirked. "A guy in my Mandarin class." She said with a wiggle of her eyebrows.

"Minx!" Lizzie chided. They giggled. Lizzie's face became serious. "He's talking about leaving home." Liz went back to Derek. "Moving out into his own apartment."

"Not talking about." Marti corrected. "He told me today the developers have brought the move-in date forward, he's getting the keys when he gets back from Quebec."

Lizzie frowned. "Poor Casey. Then she'll be stuck in that house with two oldsters and a pre-teen. Maybe Mom's right to worry about a relapse…one she's caused."

Marti shook her head. "Uh Uh." She said spearing a pork ball. "That's what I thought when I came out here, after I read your email." She waved the pork ball at Lizzie. " **Then** I spoke to Derek." She popped the pork ball into her mouth.

"Oh?" Lizzie sat forward.

"It's so juicy…" Marti told her with a sparkle in her eye.

Lizzie frowned. "Are we talking pork balls here or what?"

Her sister laughed.

"My brother asked your sister to move in with him." She announced. Lizzie's eyes widened. "And she said… YES!"

Long pause.

"Define 'move in with'." Lizzie asked softly.

Marti chuckled. "Yeah, don't get your hopes up. Apparently, it's two bedroom and he's already allocated her the room with the view."

Lizzie took a deep breath. "Do you think that's what he truly intends or what just what he's telling us?"

Marti speared another pork ball. "Honestly, it's hard to tell. But, it's been a while since Derek played hard and fast with the truth. And the only person who watches Casey more carefully than your mom is my brother. I suspect he's being honourable." They looked at each other and pulled a face.

"Who's he kidding?" Lizzie asked, spearing her own pork ball. "He's barely left her side in five years. Only for his work shifts."

"And the bathroom." Marti quipped. "And even then it was only when _he_ needed to go. I'm fairly sure in the early days there were times when he wasn't averse to taking Case on the odd bathroom run."

Lizzie closed her eyes. "Can you imagine if their teenaged selves could have predicted that." She said softly.

"I don't think any of us could predict it, Liz. No family should go through what we went through five years ago. We're bloody lucky we still have her, and even Derek knows that."

"I think Derek knows it more than anyone." Lizzie commented. Marti nodded. She put her chopsticks down and sat back in her chair.

"What do you think happened?" She asked, curiously.

"When?" Lizzie asked.

"Before the accident, when they were at college." Marti elaborated. Lizzie shrugged.

"I think they grew up." She said simply.

Marti shook her head. "Nah. It's more than that. Derek treats her with respect, obviously, but…I know him. If it was you that was injured, he'd be nice to you, considerate etc. But the way he's been over the past five years to Casey. It's more than just a brother's reaction to an injured sister."

Lizzie nodded. "I see that." She agreed. "What do you think is going on?"

Marti tilted her head to one side. "I'm not sure. It's the million-dollar question."

* * *

"Night, Casey." Jazz called from three doors down in the corridor. "If the snoring gets too much, come knock on my door."

Derek grunted. Jazz laughed and Casey smiled weakly. "Will do, Jazz." Casey replied. "Sleep well."

She turned back towards the door of their hotel room, catching Derek's eye on the way. He pulled a face as he unlocked the door, pushed it open and switched on the light.

"Hey, don't look at me." He complained, standing to one side and letting Casey inside. "You're welcome to go share his room anytime you want."

Casey walked past him and made a small noise. Derek opened his mouth to say something as a retort, but then frowned and reached out quickly to catch Casey as she slumped against him.

"Woah, there princess!" He muttered. "You okay?"

Casey straightened in his arms and leant heavily against him.

"Technically, yes, but I might have over-done it." She admitted.

Derek wrapped his arms around her and kicked the door shut behind them. "S'ok. You've had a long day. Your longest day in a while. You should be proud of what you managed today. The travel, walking, swimming…" his voice trailed away.

Casey snorted. "I'm not talking about the exercise." She told him. "I'm talking about that second glass of red wine."

Derek's frown disappeared, and he laughed a proper belly laugh, like Casey hadn't heard in forever. His arms tightened around her and he kissed the top of her head.

"You're such a lush." He murmured into her hair. Casey deliberately trod on his toe. Derek cursed and dropped his arms and Casey walked away, further into the room, removing her shoes. She sat down on the edge of the bed, rubbing her feet. It had been a while since she had worn any kind of heel, not that these really counted.

"Usual side?" She asked in a matter-of-fact tone. Derek kicked his own shoes off and sat down on the bed beside her, rubbing the toe that she had just squashed with her heel.

"Good job your mother never heard you ask that question." He commented. Casey shrugged and pulled a face.

"I know. She'd never understand." Casey lay back on the bed, still fully dressed.

"Do you remember the first time?" Derek asked her, laying back on the bed beside her. His tone was quiet, pensive.

"The night we took you home to London to recuperate after you broke your leg?" Casey told him, nodding. "You were in a right state. Broken leg, lost scholarship, lost career, no girlfriend. George wanted you on suicide watch."

Derek rolled onto his side to watch her, his head resting on his hand. "Is that what that was?" He asked. "You trying to sleep in the armchair in the corner of my room in case I topped myself?"

Casey also looked thoughtful. "Your dad never came out and said that, but he told me he thought I was the only one who could distract you." Derek raised an eyebrow. She grinned. "George wanted me to pick a fight with you. To stop you dwelling on…everything." Casey elaborated. "I remember you needing help getting to the bathroom as well."

"I'd forgotten that" Derek admitted.

"Forgotten or blocked it out?" Casey's smile broadened. He nodded an acknowledgment, but his tone was serious.

"I was grateful, Case."

"I know. You told me repeatedly over the next few weeks. At first, I thought it was like your little space cadet ride in hospital; I thought it was the medication they had you on. Then I realised there was a new world order and you actually meant it…and there wasn't going to be that childhood moment when you shouted: 'just kidding!'"

Derek smiled. "Right about that point, you crawled onto the bed beside me and talked me to sleep." His step-sister nodded.

"The first of many times."

"How many times do you reckon I've been exposed to your snoring?" Derek asked.

Casey shrugged. "According to you, enough that you probably should call noise abatement. Or ask for danger money." She grinned.

Derek butted his shoulder against hers.

"You're right. Nora would never understand that night or any of it since."

"Innocent though that night was." Casey pointed out.

Derek snorted. "You threw yourself at me".

Casey choked. "You begged me to stay."

"I needed someone to pass the chips." He lied. "What about that night you locked yourself out of your apartment? You turned up on my doorstep wanting the right side of the bed then too."

Casey baulked at that too. "You hid my keys!" She protested.

"In plain sight." Derek noted.

"If you were seven foot tall!"

Derek waited for Casey to go on and elaborate about the other instances where they had shared a bed and where the innocence of their actions was more of a moot point, but she didn't, instead she fell silent. Part of him wanted her to list every single occasion and what had led to it, until they reached the point in their history where they hadn't needed a reason to sleep beside each other…and beyond. But, Derek had never explored just how much memory Casey had lost, and he was terrified to know.

Casey turned her head to look at him.

"Do you want to get ready for bed first or shall I?" She nodded towards the bathroom. Derek sighed.

"You go first." He murmured. "I'm beached."

Casey patted his arm and pulled herself upright. She was still marvelling at how good her range of movement had been today. As she walked towards the bathroom door, she wondered what sort of sleep she would have tonight. Would it be a good four hours or just one or two? Waking up was inevitable, so was discomfort - even if outright pain was less frequent these days. Would the exercise she had done over the course of the day make things worse or better?

At the bathroom door, Casey paused and looked back towards the bed and an oblivious Derek who was looking at his phone screen. She smiled affectionately. On second thoughts, she didn't care.

* * *

When Derek emerged from the bathroom, Casey was sitting in bed reading the case notes for Bea's latest case. She had a highlighter and a pen, the latter between her teeth, and she was frowning as she made notes and switched pens to highlight something important. It was just like Keener Casey from his teenage years – except for the weak strength reading glasses perched on her nose.

"You look more like a librarian than ever." Derek told her crossing the room and removing his watch to place it on the night stand. He was wearing a new TPD t-shirt that was cut to a slim fit and a pair of pyjama pants.

Casey peered at him over the top of the glasses and he almost had a momentary lapse in good behaviour. She didn't help matters when she licked her bottom lip while still watching him. But then, Derek filled his t-shirt nicely too.

Before the unspoken game could continue, Casey's phone rang. It was a Facetime video call from Lizzie.

"It's Lizzie." Casey announced before accepting it. "Are you here?"

Derek snorted. "She's with Marti, Casey. They know we're in Quebec together." He carried on walking around the room getting ready for bed.

Casey accepted the call. "Hi Lizzie!" She chirped. "How's the jailbird doing?"

The screen filled with the faces of both Casey's sisters: full and step.

"Hi Case!" Marti called. Casey's eyes widened.

"Nice hair, Marti! It's very…red." Casey glanced towards the other side of the room where Derek was combing his hair with his fingers. He stopped abruptly and walked quickly around the bed, craning his neck to see the small screen of Casey's phone.

"What colour do you call that?" He asked slightly disparagingly, when he'd seen Marti. "Fire truck?"

Marti gave Casey an exasperated look. "Hit him for me, would you sis?"

Derek flopped on the bed. "No, seriously, I'm genuinely curious." He said, moving closer to Casey so that they were both visible on the screen. In Vancouver, Marti and Lizzie were distracted by the sight of their respective siblings lying on a bed, together.

"It's Henna, Derek. People have been using it for centuries to dye their hair. They also have really elaborate Henna tattoos drawn on their skin."

"Tell me you've only dyed your hair…" Derek insisted. "…and not…other parts."

"Don't worry, the only public part of me I used the henna on was my hair." Marti told him.

"Public part?" Derek queried in a strangled voice.

Marti didn't bat an eyelid. "Of course, there may be some Mandarin characters in places that will never see the light of day. Lizzie raised an eyebrow. Marti blushed. Lizzie laughed loudly.

"You sound like George!" She told her step-brother, to cover the moment which had passed between her and Marti. Though it passed Derek by, it didn't escape Casey's attention, but she decided now wasn't the time.

"Talking of whom…" Casey started. "How is the family? Have you spoken to everyone?"

Derek snorted. "Yeah. Have they put an APB out on Casey yet?"

Marti chuckled wryly. "You think you're joking." She told him. Derek frowned, and Casey looked at the ceiling. Then she lowered her gaze and looked Lizzie in the eye.

"Is mom over-reacting, again?" She asked Liz. Lizzie shrugged.

"What did you expect, Casey? She's micromanaged your life for the past five years and then you jump ship with your step-brother. Your nefarious step-brother who's been leading you astray for donkey's years." Marti giggled in the background.

"I haven't "jumped ship", Lizzie. I'm just helping Derek out with his case."

"So far, that's all mom knows about. Can you imagine what she's going to be like when she finds out about the rest." Lizzie smiled knowingly. Derek and Casey exchanged a glance.

"The rest?" Casey asked weakly.

"Lizzie isn't talking about the Quebec trip." Marti told her eldest sibling. "She's talking about you moving out to "live" with Derek." She clawed her index and pointer fingers in the air to make quotation marks.

Casey's eyes widened further, but Derek looked strangely relieved.

"How the hell did you find out about that? Does mom know? Who told my mom?" Casey gushed, panicking. Lizzie shrugged.

"Derek told Marti, who told me…and," She glanced apologetically at Derek. "I might have just let it slip to George, when I called home to tell them Marti had arrived safely. It's why we are calling you. We thought we owed you a heads up." Casey turned her head to stare at Derek. He shrugged.

"Nora's going to find out at some point." Derek told Casey. "At least this way, it means time will have passed her by before we see her. Hopefully, she'll have calmed down."

"You actually told Marti!" Casey objected. "Without asking me!"

Derek sighed. "Marti – and Lizzie - thought I was abandoning some ancient sibling code of conduct, by moving out and leaving you at home – with the 'rents. I was just setting them straight. No abandonment."

That wasn't Casey's issue.

"We're not siblings, Derek" Casey insisted. "There is no sibling code of conduct between us. We are totally unrelated people who just happened to share a house…and Robbie." Casey pulled a face as she remembered her beloved young brother.

"Agreed."

"This was all settled a long time ago. We are _friends_ …and friends sometimes share apartments…for convenience's sake. There's no difference between sharing the house with our parents and us sharing an apartment without them."

Derek nodded once. "Noted." Casey frowned.

"'Convenience' might be the wrong word, though." She added. "Going on past evidence. Honey in my shampoo, flushing the pages of my books…"

"I can see how that might be an issue," Derek admitted. "But there's no reason why it should change things." Derek smirked. "In fact, you could just call me your live-in inconvenience."

"What if I've changed my mind?" She asked narrowing her eyes.

"Have you?" Now Derek did look concerned. He held his breath while Casey thought about it.

"No. Probably not." She grinned.

Derek smiled. "Good."

Marti and Liz were still at the other end of the call watching the ping pong game intently.

"You guys are so funny." Marti told them. "It's like watching an old married couple."

"I was going to say Ali and Forman." Lizzie commented dryly.

* * *

The light was out, and Derek might have thought Casey was asleep, except she was shuffling restlessly in the bed beside him. He could feel the mattress dip and rise, even though there was at least two feet between them on the bed. He turned onto his side to face her, but the darkness of the room made seeing her impossible.

"You okay?" He asked, unsure if it was her physical well-being or mental well-being he was inquiring after. Casey turned to face him.

"She didn't call." She complained in a child-like voice.

Mental well-being, it was then. Derek sighed.

"Let me get this straight. We've spent the past hour analysing what you were going to say to your mom when she called to 'discuss' your decision to leave home. You told me you were dreading the moment. Now, when she is most definitely asleep – as should you be – you are panicking because she _didn't_ ring. Casey…"Derek moaned, sleepily.

"Maybe she's so annoyed with me she'll never speak to me again."

"Unlikely. If Nora is going to be annoyed at anyone it will be me." Derek fluffed the pillow under his head as he spoke.

"So why didn't she ring?" Casey asked. Unseen, Derek shrugged.

"Most likely? Because Dad forgot to tell her." Derek admitted. George had a knack of compartmentalising unpleasant things so successfully that they defied recall.

Casey shuffled some more. "Surely, George wouldn't forget something as important as this?"

"Casey, have you _met_ my father?" Derek reminded her.

"Point taken." He felt her visibly relax.

"I'm just…"

"I know. Casey, I could understand the hesitancy to go against your mom when you were a child, but you're not a child anymore. You need to stand on your own two feet, the way you did when we were at college. I've never seen Nora more proud of you than when you stood up for what you believed in – even when it went against her opinion. So long as you keep letting her make decisions for you, she's not going to believe you are ready to make decisions on your own. We've talked about you moving out. You aren't ready to live alone, but you are most definitely ready to live away from home. Our solution makes the most sense. It's a big emotional shift for your mom, which is why this little trip will help her reach the same conclusion as we did. You just need to sound convinced when you sell it to her."

"She'll blame your influence."

"That I'm used to. And, hey, if you've changed your mind, that's fine too. I'm not frogmarching you out of the door."

"I haven't changed my mind." Casey reassured him. "It _is_ the solution that makes the most sense."

"Good. Then that is settled. When she calls you just need to explain that to her. Now, you've had a long day. You're tired and…"

"…if you say emotional, Venturi…" She warned.

Derek chuckled. "I wouldn't dare." He lied. "But, today has been a lot of firsts for you – for us. First trip away from home since the crash, first plane flight since the crash, first long distance car journey si…"

"I get it, Derek." Casey cut him off. "I get it. I was in a car crash five years ago and it's been a long, hard road to recovery. But I also had a sleep this afternoon, and this evening has been about relaxing. I'm not about to keel over from too much exercise."

"Too much red wine though…" He pointed out.

"Hmmm." Casey huffed.

"Hey, you said it." He protested.

Casey turned her back on him again. "Maybe I should move down the hall." She threatened. "I'm sure Jazz wouldn't think I'd had too much exercise today. He thinks I could manage a few more laps."

Derek grunted. "Yeah, but I doubt he's thinking about laps of the swimming pool."

Casey giggled as she got his meaning. "He told me he was more interested in Bea."

"Yeah. I got that impression." Derek yawned, relieved she had moved on from fretting about her mother.

Casey turned around to face him again. "So…"

"So what?"

"So what are we going to do about it?"

Unseen, Derek pulled a face. "We need to do something?"

"Of course! They'd be perfect together."

"Casey, they argue like cat and dog."

Casey snorted. "Since when did that stop anyone? At least it'll be a passionate relationship. Jason needs his rough edges sanding down and Bea is more than ready for a project."

Derek sighed. "Aren't matchmakers supposed to be wizened old spinsters who failed so spectacularly at finding someone for themselves they stick their noses into everyone else's romances?"

"Did you just call me a witch?"

"No. But…"He let his voice trail away.

Casey continued into the dark. "I mean, obviously, I appreciate my own love life was a complete disaster…"

Derek yawned. "I wouldn't say disaster…oh wait…can we say 'Truman'…'Max'…"

"…Derek…" Casey warned.

He laughed and swept his arm around her shoulders to pull her close to him.

"Casey, Casey, Casey…"

She sighed and shifted slightly so that his shoulder was more comfortable.

"Tripling my name got old a long time ago, Derek. Now it's just irritating."

"Let's face it, it was always irritating." He pointed out. "Lots of the things I do are designed to be exactly that. It reminds you that I'm still here."

"Was I ever likely to forget?"

Derek didn't answer.

Because, clearly, she had.


	9. Chapter Nine - The Friend

**Chapter Nine – The Friend**

The contrast between the rain of recent weeks and the Autumn sunshine of this morning was stark. The gloom of approaching winter was staved off for a while longer, held in check by a last gasp effort from the sunshine to spread warmth and light to the remaining leaves on the trees. The result was a pleasant day, bright and colourful, with red, orange and golden leaves rustling softly in the gentle breeze. Mother Earth sighing with contentment before she pulled the snowy duvet of the winter months over her.

It made Casey's eyes sparkle and that made Derek smile.

They drove for an hour along gravel tracks, through the woodland, climbing into the hills at a gentle pace. Shortly, they would need to park the car and proceed on foot for the remaining thirty-minute journey to Stuart's yoga retreat. Derek's initial plan had been that he and Casey would remain with the car and Jazz would climb the final stretch, introduce himself to Jessie's former partner and then persuade him to return with him to the car, and Casey. But when he had outlined this plan to Casey over breakfast this morning, she had given him a look of complete bafflement.

"We're driving to the footpath?" She queried. Derek nodded. Casey turned to look at Jazz. "Then the journey on foot is about 1.5 miles further?" Jazz nodded. "Excellent!" Casey announced. "We'll all walk."

Derek started to say something, but Casey held up a hand. "Uh, Uh." She told him. "You promised me this would be at my pace. No crawling when I can run. Don't let me down now."

Jazz smiled. "I checked the state of the path with the hotel. They say it's good quality, and regularly maintained. Despite the rain, they don't think it will be a hard slog. But it is up-hill."

Casey nodded. "And we know I can cope with the exercise. I walked further than that yesterday. So that's settled." Derek shrugged.

"Ok. I'm easy either way." He agreed.

Casey grinned. "I'd never have said that." She teased and turned her attention back to her breakfast.

So now they had parked the car and were readying themselves for the walk. The warmth was an improvement, but there was still a breeze which brought a slight chill to the air under the tree canopy. Casey took the wind-proof raincoat from Derek gladly and slipped it over her fleece. She zipped the jacket as far as it would go up under her chin and then freed her pony tail from the neck of her fleece. It bounced in the wind and Derek couldn't help catching it and pulling gently.

"All set?" He asked as she pulled a woollen hat over her hair. It was a general question to both Jazz and his step-sister, but his eyes were focussed on Casey. This morning, the dark circles under her eyes had paled and he could see a healthy colour beginning in her cheeks. She smiled in return, shook her head at the hiking stick Jazz offered her, but let Derek take her hand.

"I'm good." She commented and was rewarded with a squeeze of her fingers. In the meantime, Jazz had produced a map in the form of a printed leaflet, which showed the route from the car park up through the trees towards the retreat.

"Let's go!" He suggested and led the way. "We can stop any time you need, and I have water in my backpack if anyone gets thirsty along the way."

"Thanks Jazz." Casey grinned at him as she walked. Derek snorted.

"If I'd said that you'd say I was being over-protective." He muttered as they picked their way up the path.

"If you'd said that, you _would_ be over-protective." Casey told him. "You read me better than anyone. You don't need to remind me to stop or drink water, so any time you say stuff like that it's overkill. Jazz is just Jazz. He doesn't have the same insight into my well-being as you."

Derek was quiet for a moment, trying to process the compliment. Finally, he dropped her hand and put his arm around her shoulder, pressing a kiss into her hair.

"Thank you." He decided. Casey butted the side of her hip against his and then put her own arm around his waist.

"You're welcome."

It was still early. The sun was low in the sky, though at this time of year it would never reach its full height. They had timed their departure to ensure they caused the minimum disruption to the yoga course and would arrive during the first break in the timetabled sessions, sometime around 9.30am. When they had discussed timings the night before, Casey had assumed that she would wake early and have time for a swim before breakfast. Instead, she had risen with Derek's alarm at 7.00am, still wrapped in his arms and desperate for the bathroom as she had slept through the night without stirring. Such heavy sleep left both Derek and Casey a little disorientated and when Casey returned from the bathroom, she climbed back into bed and let Derek fold her close to him while they both woke up properly.

Then it was a bit of a rush to get showered and dressed in time for breakfast.

"How did you sleep?" Derek asked in a low voice as they followed Jazz up the hillside. Walking with their arms around each other had proved impractical, so they were now, once again, hand in hand.

Casey looked away into the distance for a moment before she spoke. "Eight hours." She commented. "A full eight hours solid– and no sleeping pills or painkillers. Clearly exercise is good for me."

"You don't say!" Derek said in mock surprise. Casey nudged him.

"I know, I know." She looked up at him. "How did you sleep?"

He shrugged. "Pretty well, but I should have worn those noise-cancelling headphones." He joked. "I think the bed bugs were using a pneumatic drill."

"Shut up. I didn't snore." She protested.

He grinned. "No, actually, you didn't. You were soundlessly asleep almost as soon as your head hit my shoulder." Their eyes met, and Derek squeezed her hand. "Best night's sleep I've had in a while as well." He admitted.

"Really?" Casey sounded a little disbelieving.

Derek shrugged. "The hotel room was quieter than our house. No early morning Robbie, no dad getting up for the bathroom every five minutes. (The waste pipe runs down through the wall in the corner of my room)." Casey snorted. Derek went on. "Really, the guy needs to get his prostrate sorted out." He complained. "And of course, I wasn't listening out for you moving around."

"You do that?"

He shrugged. "Not consciously. But, I guess I'm very aware you're in the next room and I know you don't always sleep well."

"So, when we're in the same room – bed – you know exactly how I'm sleeping, and you aren't listening out for trouble."

"I suppose. Because 'trouble' is right there in my arms." He grinned.

Ahead, Jazz had paused and motioned for them to be still. Then he put his fingers to his lips and beckoned them closer.

"Deer." He mouthed and pointed through the trees in the distance. Casey gasped as she spotted the buck watching and listening. After a few moments, he got bored and trotted off. They all relaxed.

"I guess now we can see part of the reason for the location of the retreat." Derek commented. Casey turned around and looked at the way they had come so far.

"It's beautiful." She agreed. "Almost a shame to interrupt it with news of death. Poor Stuart."

'Poor Stuart', however, was anything but upset by their arrival.

"Oh my god! Casey MacDonald! What a sight for sore eyes you are my darling!" he announced as soon as he saw them approach.

Derek glanced at Casey to see how she would react to this greeting. So far, in the two days leading up to this visit, Casey had behaved as though she barely knew Stuart Lewis, but Derek had already worked out that they must be closer than this. Stuart had been the partner of one of Casey's best friends. They had all worked in the same dance company. They had been on tour together. Stuart was probably one of the first triggers Casey was going to encounter from the time of her missing memories.

Casey let go of Derek's hand and walked slowly towards the approaching man. He was dressed in yoga pants and a long-sleeved top, both items of clothing straining with the dancer's muscles which they covered. In fact, the outfit was so similar to that which he rehearsed in as a dancer, he looked exactly as Casey would have pictured him, with or without the memory loss. But Derek knew Casey remembered him as soon as she spoke.

"Hi Stew Pot." She called softly. "Sorry it's been so long."

* * *

They sat in the sun sipping herbal teas and water (Casey and Stuart drank the teas, Jazz and Derek drank the water). The low wooden benches were positioned with a view over the valley, away from the track they had hiked up, looking out into wilderness. Stuart and Casey sat together, their heads close. Jazz and Derek gave them space and sat some distance away.

"It's so good to see you finally up on your feet again." Stuart told Casey, his voice full of emotion. "I wanted to come and see you, girl, but…well… I just never felt strong enough."

Casey patted his hand. "I understand, Stewie." She reassured him. "To be honest, I've blocked so much of the accident and the aftermath out that I've only just remembered you weren't in the car with us. It's not that I forgot you, just that…you never came to mind. Not because I don't care, but because I do. Thinking of you would mean thinking of Jessie and…"

"Don't. I know. God! I know!" Stuart wiped a tear from his cheek.

"I'm sorry I missed his funeral, I don't even know when it was." Casey swallowed hard. Stuart shook his head.

"The day of his funeral, Casey, you were in theatre having a blood clot removed. So many of us were torn between needing to be at the funeral and wanting to be at the hospital waiting to see how you were…and then, well then, there was never a good time. We had the mess of the dance company to sort out. Jessie's estate was…well he was never meant to die so young."

Casey nodded and took Stuart's hands.

"We're here now." She told him. "How are you doing?"

Stuart squeezed her hands and forced a grin onto his face. Then he took a sip of his tea and swallowed. "I'm doing ok." He told her. "Took the remnants of the old company and formed a new one. I called it 'Jessie's World'." Casey nodded her approval. "It's doing good. There are some old friends amongst the current team, people you'd recognise. We mainly teach now, and we have scholarships for kids from Jessie's kind of background."

"Any significant other?" Casey asked with a smile.

Stuart blushed. "Maybe. But it's quite new. It's taken me a long time to get over Jessie." He looked over Casey's shoulder. "Is that Derek?" She nodded. Stuart smiled. "He's still there then?"

Casey shrugged. "He's my step-brother. Where's he going to go?"

Stuart nudged her with his shoulder. "Everywhere that you are, I guess." He commented. Casey blushed in turn.

"It's not…"

Stuart raised an eyebrow. "Really? What changed?"

Casey pulled her fleece down from round her neck and rolled up her sleeve, revealing the scars. "He says he doesn't see them, but…well we're only friends."

"He's still here, Casey. That counts."

She nodded, remembering last night, this morning and every soft word Derek had given her in the past five years.

"It counts for something at least." She agreed. "I'm just not sure what."

Stuart patted her on the leg. "So, beautiful. Why have you come all this way to see me? It must be important."

Casey sighed. "Yes. It is." She admitted. "Important and difficult to explain…and potentially devastating again. I'm sorry."

Stuart sighed. "Go on. The worst that could happen to me happened five years ago and I got through it somehow. I'll help anyway I can."

Casey looked over at Derek and beckoned him and Jazz to join them. "Thank you, Stuart. This means a lot."

It was Jazz who told the story of the young woman they had found just those few short days ago. He was careful with his words, the right balance of truth and empathy. Derek listened to his colleague speak and remembered anew why he respected Jazz so much. Yeah, the guy was a clown…but only when it was acceptable. When he needed to be the sensitive one, he could do it and do it well. Without thinking, Derek put his arm around Casey's shoulders as they relived the past three days through Jazz's speech. Derek was rewarded with her body shuffling closer to him and she leaned against him just the tiniest amount.

"And you don't recognise her?" Stuart asked Casey eventually. She shook her head.

"Not enough to put a name to her. They showed me a picture of her body, but her appearance has changed since the picture with her in it. That is grainy. It must have been taken on film rather than digitally. I don't remember the latter picture being taken, I can't remember the event. Jessie is there and a couple of other people. I think maybe you are there, but I'm not sure. She could be one of the general guests or she could be one of our company. My memory of that time is so shot." Derek rubbed a thumb against Casey's shoulder."

Stuart nodded. "Ok. Show me the photos."

Jazz took two envelopes from the inside pocket of his jacket. Neither envelope was labelled and so he passed them to Stuart out of order, a fact which only became evident when Stuart withdrew the first photograph from its envelope.

It was the picture of the party.

Stuart chuckled. "Grainy is right!" He commented. "Case. I don't think your lack of memory has anything to do with this. It could be any one of a dozen parties we went to."

Casey nodded. "Recognise anyone?"

Stuart took his time. "Well, you and Jessie, obviously. And I'm in the background, though you'd struggle to tell it's me. There are a couple of others in the picture I know. Which one is the victim?"

Jazz pointed to the young woman.

Derek wasn't exactly sure what reaction he expected from Stuart, but it definitely wasn't the one they got.

"Well I don't know who you've got on your mortuary slab," Stuart stated. "…but it isn't her." Casey looked blankly at him. Stuart sighed. "Casey, the girl in this group picture? That's Sophie."

"Sophie?" Casey frowned and snatched the photograph from her friend. She reached into her pocket and drew out her reading glasses. "Well, I suppose…" She began and turned to Derek. "He's right. The girl in this picture is Sophie."

Jazz looked confused. "Sophie?" He asked Derek who had also snatched the picture from Casey's grasp and was peering at it intently.

"Another of Casey's close friends." He explained. "But that's impossible! Sophie was the other fatality in Casey's accident. These pictures can't be Sophie."

Stuart shrugged. "The grainy picture is Sophie. You're just mistaken about who the dead girl is."

Derek shook his head. He grabbed the other envelope from Jazz and handed it to Stuart. "Apologies, this is post-mortem." He said by way of explanation. Stuart reached into the envelope and drew the picture of the unidentified girl from within.

They all waited in silence. Stuart took the group photograph from Derek and let his eyes flicked between the two pictures.

"Where is she now?" He asked eventually handing the photographs back to Derek's partner.

Jazz took them and slipped them back into his jacket. "Still with the Toronto coroner. They hold unidentified remains for as long as possible before they bury them, to give the family chance to…"

"Sophie doesn't have any family." Stuart told him. "After the crash, there were just a handful of people turned up for her funeral. If this is her…"

"You're not sure?" Jazz prompted.

Stuart took a deep breath. "I can see why you think they are the same person. I can tell you for certain that the girl in the group shot is Sophie. But I thought you guys had formally identified Sophie's body in the crash."

Derek glanced with concern towards Casey who had turned pale. "We identified her using dental records. Plus of course, we knew who had been in the car for that trip. Or thought we did."

Stuart stood up. "Give me ten minutes to get my things together." He told them. "It sounds like I need to come back to Toronto with you and see the body for myself."

"You'd do that?" Derek asked. Stuart nodded.

"She was a friend, Derek. If things aren't what they seem, I want to do everything I can to find out why."

"Thanks, Stuart." Casey said quietly. Derek turned to see if she was alright, even as Jazz followed Stuart towards his lodgings.

"Do you need a hand?" Jazz asked Stuart as they moved out of earshot from Derek and Casey. Stuart shook his head.

"I have one drawer's worth of clothing and a washbag." He explained. "It will take me very little time to get everything together." He turned to go and then turned back again. "Tell me something." Jazz nodded for him to continue. "Do you know if the body found in the car…was it possible to tell if there was a pregnancy?"

Jazz shook his head. "It's been a while since I looked at the report, but I don't remember anything about a pregnancy, why?"

Stuart sighed. "That was one of the biggest tragedies." He told Jazz. "Sophie was five months pregnant at the time of the accident."

* * *

"I'm sorry." Casey told Derek. "I should have known." They were sitting opposite each other on the bench now, Derek had both her hands in his. He shook his head.

"Don't apologise for what you had no control over. We both knew that your memories of that time were hit and miss."

Casey sighed and glanced towards the building where Stuart had disappeared. "But how can I forget some of my closest friends? People like Stuart and Sophie."

"Because, unwittingly, you were protecting yourself. Thinking of Sophie meant remembering her death and the accident. Thinking of Stuart meant thinking of Jessie and loss. Besides, you didn't exactly forget them, your brain just shuffled them off into a corner until you needed to think about them again. How were you supposed to connect Sophie with the mystery girl? We'd all told you Sophie was dead. Besides, she may still have been killed in the car accident and this may all be a horrible mistake."

Casey looked at him. "You really believe that it's a mistake?" She sounded sceptical.

Derek turned away to the view. "I've never been happy about the circumstances of your accident. I've always thought there was someone else present." He admitted with a sigh and looked at her. "They told me at the hospital that someone had performed CPR on you and that was why you were alive. I was there so quickly after the crash, but neither I nor any of my colleagues tried CPR because you were already breathing on your own. And the mystery girl had a picture of you with her when she died. There's a connection between you. I think it's far more likely that a mistake was made in identifying Sophie's body at the time of the crash than that a complete stranger walks around with your picture in her bra."

"If that's the case, for five years Sophie has been alive and walking around Toronto. We were friends, Derek. Pretty close for a while. Why didn't she let us know? Why didn't she try to make contact, to find out how I was or what happened with Jessie?"

Derek shook his head. "That's what we need to find out. Urgently, because at the end of the day, the mystery girl was murdered and if you are connected in any way, I need to find out how so that I know you are safe."

They were silently for a long while.

"When did you get so insightful about memory loss and grief?" Casey asked Derek softly. He coughed and looked uncomfortable.

"I had…erm…counselling." He admitted. "A bit after I broke my leg and then I went back to my counsellor after…your accident. I struggled with it all for a bit."

"Because you thought I was going to die?"

Derek shook his head. "Not just that. It was…there was more to it. Much more." He stood up abruptly. "Now's not the time to talk about this, Casey. I'm going to go chivvy them along. I want to get back on the road." And with that he was gone.

* * *

Derek drove back to the airport. He let Jazz walk Casey down from the retreat and insisted she sat in the back of the car. Jazz rode shotgun. Casey was puzzled at the distance that had sprung up between them all of a sudden, as if his admission that he had needed counselling after her accident had dramatically altered their whole relationship. Suddenly, all of the progress Casey had made in the past few days felt like nothing. Her good mood twisted into a hard lump in her throat and she turned her eyes to the window, scared that if she caught Derek's eye there would be a wall between them.

"You okay?" Jazz asked as they walked through the airport to the business lounge. "You've gone all quiet on me." Casey smiled weakly. Jazz put an arm around her as they went. "We'll sort this out, angel. You know Derek won't let anything get in the way of your recovery." He nodded forwards to where Derek was leading the way, dragging both his own suitcase and Casey's. He wasn't looking behind him, and Stuart, Jazz and Casey were having a hard time keeping up. "Look at him. He's a man on a mission." Jazz commented. "Hey, D! Back here, some of us aren't ready for the 100m sprint!"

Derek looked back over his shoulder and stopped when he saw Jazz with his arm around Casey. He turned his gaze to Casey's face and blinked when he saw the pain in her eyes. She was pale, and her confidence from earlier in the day had disappeared. Every step looked painful and he could tell she was a split second from bursting into tears. He frowned wondering what had happened.

Derek walked back to Jazz and handed him Casey's suitcase.

"Jase, do me a favour. Will you and Stuart go find us a spot in the lounge? Casey and I'll be along in a minute." Jazz looked confused at Derek's change in tone and address. "Please, Jason."

Fortunately, they had already passed through security and were in the general seating area, surrounded by shops. As soon as Stuart and Jazz had gone, taking Derek and Casey's bags with them, Derek walked Casey to a quieter corner of the vast space. It was noisy, and they were surrounded by many people, but sometimes that is privacy in itself.

"What hurts?" Derek asked as soon as they were sitting down.

Casey didn't know where to start. She shook her head.

"Nothing. It's just…What did I do?" Casey's voice was small.

Derek sighed. "None of this is your fault, Casey. Whether it's Sophie or not it…"

"I'm. not. Talking. About. The case." Casey stuttered and quiet tears trickled down her cheeks. "I mean to you. What did I do? One minute you're Derek and the next minute you've…" She sniffed. "…shut me out."

Derek closed his eyes. "Oh crap." He opened them again. "This is ME?! You look like shit because of me?"

Casey pulled a face at his words and then nodded. "At the Retreat, one minute you're talking to me as normal and the next minute…"

"I got all emo on you." Derek completed in a resigned tone.

"Emo? Yes, I guess you could call it that. And then you've been distant ever since."

"Distant?"

"Not walking me down from the Retreat. Asking me to sit in the back of the car. Not even…not even looking at me."

Derek couldn't help it. He looked away.

"Yeah. Like that." Casey said bitterly.

Derek stood up and moved to the seat next to her. "It's not you…" He began.

"Don't you dare say 'it's not you, it's me'." She warned him in a hiss. Derek slipped his arms around her and kissed her head. Despite herself, Casey leaned into him.

"I'm broken too, Casey. It began before your accident when I broke my leg and, Christ, you being there helped! I got counselling and life got back on track, but then when I nearly lost you…and when I did lose…" He stopped. "Sometimes the damage done isn't only physical. The trouble with mental injury is it's so much easier to hide. And for guys…it's the worst kind of injury. This morning, when you asked about the counselling, it brought…things to the surface."

"Things you can't share with me? For fucks' sake, Derek, you've carried me to the bathroom and wiped my backside, and there's still something out there that you can't share with me?!" Casey hissed quietly.

Derek buried his face in her neck close to her ear. "I would give you the world, Casey. But I can't talk about it right now."

"Why?"

It was a valid question, but one he really couldn't answer. Casey was doing so well and the moment he was truly honest with her…it might destroy her, and he wasn't about to take that risk.

"Trust me?" Derek asked.

A day ago, the answer would have been 'with my life'. Now…

"Let me get this straight." Casey began, trying to ignore the way his breath on her neck felt or the way his hands shook as they held her own. "I haven't done anything, but you're in pain – mental pain – about something that you don't want…" she saw the look in his eyes. "… _can't…_ share with me." Derek nodded. "And you can't share it with me because…?"

"I'm not ready to share." Derek admitted and looked her straight in the eye.

Casey sighed "Because you're not ready…or because I'm not?"

Derek smiled sadly. "Honestly, Princess? A large chunk of both."

There was a long pause. Eventually, Casey slumped against him. "I'm not happy about this." She told him. Derek snorted.

"You think I am?!" he asked.

"Secrets between us has never been a good thing." Casey stated.

"Don't I know it! Every problem I've ever had got sorted as soon as you knew." He wasn't lying.

"Whatever her name is… you know you can talk to me."

Derek baulked. "What?!"

"I mean it. But, I seriously hope she's worth it, Derek."

Derek tightened his arms around her and, unseen, shook his head at the thought.

"You're insane. You know that." He murmured.

"You drove me there." Casey quoted.

"Yeah, well it was a short drive." He responded and then grinned. "Thirteen years and that _never_ gets old."

Casey twisted in his arms. "Don't leave it too long, Derek."

"When the time is right." He promised and kissed her on the cheek. "I promise."

Casey leaned back against him. "I guess we'd better go find the others."

Derek nodded. "And this…"

"Stays between us." She confirmed.

* * *

"It's late." Jazz said as he pulled up at the Venturi house. "Marie won't be in until the morning. I don't think we're going to solve anything tonight. You guys go get some rest, I'll drop Stuart off at his place and we can all meet tomorrow at Marie's."

"Marie?" Stuart asked.

Jazz nodded. "You'll like her. She's pretty cool for a chick who deals in death."

"Coroner." Derek explained to a confused looking Stuart and Casey. "And chick is stretching it a bit."

Jazz snorted. "I _would_ though."

Derek chuckled. "Dude, she has way too much class and _you_ can't stomach her perfume."

"She doesn't wear…oh." Jazz got Derek's meaning. "Yeah, well, I guess 'eau de hospital' is a little off-putting."

"Concentrate on the librarian." Derek told him with a pat on the shoulder. "Now pop the trunk."

They unloaded themselves from the car and walked up the steps to the house. It was late, but Nora was waiting in the living room. For once Casey was relieved to see her mom and welcomed the arms that threw themselves around her the moment she walked through the door.

"How are you, Case?" Nora asked, holding her daughter at arms' length and inspecting her face.

Casey glanced at Derek.

"I'm good, Mom. A little tired, but I think – on balance – it was a success."

Nora looked up at Derek. "Did she rest?"

"Slept on the plane both ways, afternoon nap and then eight hours unbroken sleep last night." Derek confirmed. Nora's eyes widened.

"You took a sleeping pill?" She asked Casey who shook her head.

"Drug-free, Mom. The whole trip. I even did a small hike this morning – and forty lengths of the pool last night. Derek wanted me to do thirty but I thought…what the hell!"

Nora looked surprised. "Sounds like a success, as you say." She didn't sound convinced. Casey pecked her mom on the cheek.

"Honestly, Mom. The exercise did me good. I'm going to do more of it, but I'll be sensible. I think this is the start of something really positive. I think I'm ready for a little change in the routine."

Nora pulled a face. "Yes. I'd heard."

Casey's smile disappeared. "George told you…" Nora nodded.

"We're not talking about it tonight though." The older woman stated. "You need to go to bed and get some rest." She looked over at Derek. "We _are_ going to talk about it though." She said pointedly.

"Wouldn't want it any other way, step-mom." Derek agreed.

George appeared in the doorway. "Nora, Robbie's calling. Apparently, he's had a bad dream and he wants you to sleep in his room."

Nora glanced at the ceiling and gave a wry smile. "I'm coming." She sighed then turned back to point at Casey. "Get some sleep."

"I fully intend to Mom. It's been a long day." Casey stated, catching Derek's eye as she turned towards her bedroom.

It was half an hour later and Casey was tucked up in bed. Usually she would read herself to sleep with the latest brief from Bea, or occasionally a good book. But tonight, reading hadn't settled her, and sleep didn't come easily.

First, while she appreciated Derek's words, but it still didn't feel right that there was something he wouldn't share with her. They'd moved on from the secrecy of their teen years and it really was unusual that they kept anything from each other.

Then there was the whole Nora knowing about her plans to move out.

Plus, the heating had switched itself off and the temperature outside had dropped. In contrast to the previous night, Casey's bed felt cold and strangely empty. She was just debating whether to get up and make herself a cup of tea when there was a tap at the door.

As if reading her mind, Derek pushed the door open with his foot and came in carrying two steaming mugs.

"Tea for you, decaf coffee for me." He told her. "My room is effing freezing, so I figure yours must be the same."

Casey took the mug gratefully and shifted over so that Derek could perch on the bed beside her.

"Thank you. I was just thinking about getting out of bed and making myself something to drink. I think it might be time to have a word with George about the timer on the boiler."

Derek nodded. "I'm all for saving money but, seriously…I won't miss his frugality when we move out."

They sipped their drinks in silence for a moment before Derek spoke.

"So…she knows and she knows we know she knows." He stated. Casey snorted into her tea.

"Come again?"

"Nora. She knows we know that she knows that you are planning to move out and share an apartment with me."

Casey pulled a face. "I'm trying not to think about that."

Derek leaned back on the pillows. "The fact that Nora knows or the fact that we are moving in together?"

Casey gave him a look. "You, I can handle. It's my mother I'm worried about."

"Liar." He told her. "You're still fretting about earlier, aren't you?"

Casey sighed. "I don't like secrets, Derek. We're friends, best friends. I just don't get why you won't tell me what's bothering you."

Derek put his drink on the side and turned towards her. "I will." He promised.

"But not tonight." She finished for him.

"No. Not tonight. And maybe not for a while, but I will tell you."

Casey sipped her tea.

"We okay?" Derek asked her, cautiously.

She nodded, and they watched each other for a while. Eventually, Derek picked his coffee up and started drinking it again. They drank in silence until there was little left in the mugs.

"I can't believe I slept for eight hours last night." Casey said as Derek put his empty mug down.

"You were exhausted."

"I was comfortable."

Derek grinned. "The hotel room was warm at least." He noted. Casey chuckled and nodded. She looked at the clock as she put her own empty mug on the bedside table.

"It's really late. Are you staying?"

"Probably not a good idea." Derek told her. "Can you imagine Nora walking in on us sharing your bed? There's no such thing as 'innocent' as far as she's concerned."

Casey thought about that while Derek took the two mugs and walked out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. She fluffed her pillows and snuggled under the covers.

Derek returned and resumed his seat beside her.

"I'll stay for a bit though." He told her. "Until you feel sleepy. But only if you want me to."

* * *

Daylight was just creeping under the curtains in Casey's bedroom when Derek felt the tap on his shoulder. He wearily opened his eyes and found his head on the pillow beside Casey's, the duvet pulled up to his neck and his arm slung around Casey's waist. She was breathing softly, completely oblivious.

"Comfortable?" George asked in an amused tone. He was standing beside Casey's bed looking down on his son and his eldest step-daughter.

Derek blinked. "Crap! I fell asleep!" He let his eyes sweep the room. No sign of Nora.

His father chuckled. "No shit, Sherlock."

Derek extricated himself, carefully, from Casey and sat up, rubbing his eyes.

"Sorry, Dad. I just…"

George shrugged. "Just be grateful it was me and not Nora. She's still struggling to understand your relationship with Casey."

Derek pulled the duvet back and climbed out of bed. "What relationship?" He protested. George chuckled.

"Derek, cut the crap. This isn't the first time I've walked in on you and Casey cuddled up together."

Derek frowned in confusion.

"After you broke your leg? When we got you home, I asked Casey to keep an eye on you? Of course, you were still high as a kite. It was Casey's shoulder I tapped on then." He laughed. " _She_ didn't apologise."

Derek scratched his head.

"Hey, don't look so mournful." His dad told him. "You're still here because of her. She's still here because of you. Seems to me you're both doing something right. But if Nora asks…'I know nothing.'"

"Not-so-clueless, George." Derek commented.

His father smiled. "Ignorance is bliss after all. In marriage at least." He nodded at Casey. "You might want to remember that one day."


	10. Chapter Ten - The Apartment

**Chapter Ten – The Apartment**

 _ **Outside the Coroner's Office, later that morning.**_

Derek parked his car in his usual spot outside the Coroner's office. It wasn't, strictly speaking, a designated space but he had an arrangement with the security people who patrolled the car park. The Coroner's office shared a building with several other government departments and the car park was always full. For a couple of prime Leafs' tickets a year, Derek didn't get his car towed. It was one of the bonuses of still having friends in the hockey game. He avoided telling Casey this, however, knowing she probably wouldn't approve. But, this morning, they both appreciated the close proximity to the office entrance. Quebec may be having lovely Autumnal weather, in Toronto it was sleeting.

As he switched the engine off, Derek glanced across at Casey. He could tell she had slept well again, not only had she bothered with make up this morning, but her eyes were bright and alert. But she was still pale, and on closer inspection the bright eyes were actually brimming with extra tears that threatened to spill over. There were two possible outcomes from this identification procedure: Casey would discover that the unknown body inside the building was not Sophie, and that they were back to square one. Or, Casey's friend had not died in the fiery crash five years ago, but had instead, died a few days ago, just miles from Casey's home.

Neither was an attractive prospect.

"How are you doing?" Derek squeezed her hand. Casey gave a weak smile.

"As well as can be expected." She told him honestly, not bothering to claim anything else. "I'm apprehensive about this, but I slept well again last night. I guess you can't take credit for my sleeping patterns." She joked. Derek coughed awkwardly and looked away.

"What?" Casey asked in amusement.

"Technically, I might have slept in your bed again last night." He admitted. "I fell asleep and woke up at first light this morning."

Casey chuckled. "Really?"

"Yeah." He ran his hand through his hair. "Dad woke me."

"Going to the bathroom again?"

"Erm…no. He tapped me on the shoulder." Derek announced, opened the car door and climbed out.

Inside the car, his words registered in Casey's brain. She opened her own door and climbed out quickly.

"What?!" She exclaimed, joining him in front of the car. "Please tell me you're joking."

"Relax. It was just Dad, not Nora, and he was fine with it." Derek grinned at her. "Apparently it wasn't the first time we got caught…?" He gave her a pointed look.

Casey frowned. "That was nothing and it was years ago." She protested.

"Yeah, well, last night was nothing too, so don't panic." Derek commented as he walked towards the building. Casey remained where she was.

"Nothing?" She said softly. Derek walked back towards her.

"I meant as far as Dad's concerned, silly. After all, you slept through the whole _cuddling_ bit." Their faces were close now. "By the way, you didn't snore." They stared at each other. Closing the gap would have been so easy.

It wasn't happening.

Derek zapped the car with its remote, offered Casey his hand, and turned towards the building.

"Do you think George will tell Mom?" Casey asked as they walked. Derek shook his head.

"Definitely not."

"You're sure?"

Derek held the door of the building open for her. "Positive. It's a father-son thing."

Casey gave him a look as she passed him. "Really?"

Derek laughed. "No. He won't tell her, because he just wants an easy life."

They were the first to arrive, but Marie was expecting them. In fact, she had cleared her desk and made sure she was available to deal with the identification, despite the fact she might normally have handed the job over to someone else in her department. Marie had worked with Derek for many years, and he had shared more information about his family with her than he had with many of his colleagues. He'd just never shown her any pictures or brought any of them to meet her. Marie was curious, and of all the people she was curious about, Casey topped the list.

Derek buzzed at the reception desk, identified himself and signed them both in. It was only seconds before Marie appeared. Today she was in her office clothes rather than scrubs, reflecting the fact only half of her job involved touching the dead. The rest was paperwork and telephone calls. Derek wondered if he had ever seen her in civilian clothes before and came to the conclusion he hadn't. Jazz had been right, though Derek hadn't noticed before, Marie was attractive – not his type, but attractive all the same. She stepped forward to greet them.

"Derek." She nodded once and turned immediately to Casey. "And you must be Casey. I've heard a lot about you over the years. It's good to see you looking so well!"

Casey smiled and shook the offered hand. "It's Marie, isn't it? Sorry, Derek didn't tell me your surname, but he's told me how helpful you've been…I'm really pleased to meet you."

"That's because he can never remember my surname, honey." Marie told her. "So he fudges it." she smiled gently. "I'm really sorry we had to meet under these circumstances."

Casey nodded. "Thank you. It's all a bit of a blur at the moment. I'm still reeling from the idea that someone died with a photograph of me on their body. The fact that it might be a friend of mine who I've already grieved for in the past…it just doesn't compute."

Marie nodded. "Come through into my office, I'll get you a coffee and we can talk about how this is going to go." She looked over at Derek. "Jazz is on his way…with Mr Lewis?" He nodded.

"Apparently - he's having trouble parking."

"I'm not surprised. It's been murder around here for days." Marie stated, without irony.

Soon they were in a comfortable office, seated on a large corner sofa. Casey appreciated that somewhere in the building there was probably another, more official, room where normal visitors to the department were taken prior to making an identification, but, even after just a brief conversation with Marie, she could tell that those visitors were also treated as if they were very important at one of the hardest times of their life.

"I remember the first time I met Derek." Marie stated with a smile. "He was so green we gave him a cardboard sick bowl as soon as he walked through the door. Casey smiled.

"Just the one?"

Derek looked offended. "I didn't use it!" he protested. Marie gave him a look. "Well, not on that occasion at least."

Marie relented. "He's actually not bad. He's got a stronger stomach than most, but I guess you know that."

Casey looked surprised. "Uh…no! This is the guy who was sick before every major hockey game of his career."

Derek pulled a face. "Bodily fluids I can handle…most of the time. It's the emotional stuff that turns my stomach." He sipped his coffee. "Where the hell is Jazz? I'm getting ganged up on here." The two women chuckled.

As if in answer to Derek's prayers, the phone rang telling Marie that Jazz and Stuart had arrived. She left to meet them.

Derek nudged Casey with his shoulder. "You okay?"

"I've been better." She admitted. "Although we both know I've been a lot worse too." She paused. "Marie seems nice."

He nodded. "Yeah. Strange job choice though."

Casey shrugged. "I considered it once." She told him. "Years ago. The idea of listening to the dead speak appealed." She smiled softly at his face. "It was in reaction to a newspaper article I read when I was thirteen. There was this little girl who had been found dead and the police had little to go on. The article followed the role of the coroner in the investigation."

"Did they get the guy?"

Casey nodded. "He lasted five minutes in prison. Then the coroner had to perform the autopsy on him."

Derek shrugged. "Nature has its own justice. Not that I necessarily agree with it." He paused. "What the hell was Nora doing letting you read stuff like that?"

Casey leaned back on the couch. "She was in the middle of the divorce at the time. But I used to read anything and everything. My whole life was reading and dancing back then. My escape from the crap of Mom and Dad fighting. And of course, dancing was what killed the desire to be a coroner." She grinned. "That and the smell."

The door opened, and Marie stuck her head around the door. "Shall we do this?"

* * *

It was all very tactful, Casey thought. A small anteroom lined with fabric in a muted colour to soften the hard edges and the bright light of the otherwise utilitarian building. Bright lights were still necessary to ensure the identification was an accurate one. But nothing could alleviate the chill of just walking into the room. Stuart was suffering, Casey could tell. She stepped forward and took his hand and they approached the body together.

Then it took just a few minutes. The cloth was removed from the victim's face, Casey and Stuart gazed at her features for a moment. Then they looked at each other before Casey turned to Derek. "It's Sophie." She stated.

"You're sure?" he asked. "I mean, you weren't sure about the photograph…"

It was Stuart who answered. "The photograph was of her face. Now we are looking at her face and her body. It's Sophie." He turned to Marie. "She was pregnant when we last saw her…?"

Marie nodded. "She's given birth at some point. The estimate is in line with approximately four to five years ago."

"And the baby…?"

Marie shrugged. "I can't tell anything about he or she. I can't even tell if she carried the baby to term. But now you've identified her, Derek and Jazz can try and track down her medical records. Though clearly, they won't be listed under her real name." Jazz nodded.

"We can look at her age, appearance, weight, blood type etc. If we can get the possibilities down to a small enough number, then maybe we can look at DNA. I don't suppose she had an unusual blood group?"

Marie opened the file she was holding. "AB-. That's the rarest. You might have some luck tracing her through that alone. A rhesus negative mother would be flagged during pregnancy."

Derek watched Casey carefully as Marie spoke, stepping close to her and putting an arm around her waist. "You okay?" He asked, noting how pale she was.

Marie interrupted her conversation with Jazz. "Oh, please…let's go back to my office. It's cold down here. Do you want us to step out of the room first so that you can say goodbye?"

Stuart and Casey glanced at each other again. They nodded and, reluctantly, Derek followed Jazz and Marie from the room.

Casey stepped towards the body of her friend. "I suppose I should be grateful." She told Stuart. "I missed out on the chance to say goodbye five years ago."

Stuart nodded. "So did I. They wouldn't let anyone view the body…for obvious reasons."

Casey sighed. "I wonder where her baby is." She murmured. "Do you think somewhere out there there's a child waiting for its mother to return? I can't imagine abandoning my child! Surely no mother is willingly separated from her child?"

"I can't imagine Sophie abandoning her child either. She was so looking forward to the baby coming. You guys used to spend hours making plans. Every time I walked into your dressing room, she had bought something new for the baby."

"Really?" Casey was interested. "I…don't remember any of that. I don't remember her pregnancy at all." She smiled wistfully. "She'd have made a good mother though."

Stuart put his arm around her shoulder. "Come on, Case. Let's go get a coffee, sign whatever paperwork is necessary and then see what happens next."

* * *

"Where's Casey?" Derek asked as Stuart entered the room, alone.

"Ladies' room. I think she wanted to freshen up."

Jazz sighed. "I'm not surprised. There's probably a few tears to be shed as well."

Derek was halfway out of the door when Marie stopped him. "It's called 'the ladies' room' for a reason, Derek. Let me go." Once again, Derek reluctantly stepped back and let Marie take over.

Stuart smiled reassuringly at him. "She's ok, honestly. There weren't any tears in the room. I guess we'd already lost Sophie five years ago. I think the only thing that upsets Casey is that she doesn't know what happened to Sophie's child."

Derek frowned. "Sophie's child?"

Stuart nodded. "She wants to know where Sophie's child is. She doesn't believe Sophie could abandon the baby. She thinks somewhere out there is a child calling for its mother, and there is no way that any mother would abandon her child willingly."

Derek swallowed hard. "Jazz. Casey has a point. We can't afford to believe this stops with Sophie's death. Our priority has to be finding Sophie's baby."

His partner nodded. "I'll speak to the boss." He exchanged a look with Derek. "You and I can deal with it personally."

* * *

"All okay?" Derek asked as he pulled out of the car park. Casey was quiet, distracted.

"Yes." She turned and smiled at him. "I'm fine, honestly. A bit tired, but glad this part is over." She looked at the scenery as they drove. "Where are we going now?" She asked in confusion.

Derek smiled. "Well, I'm going back to work and you're going home, however, we need to make a stop first."

"Oh?" Casey sounded curious.

"You'll see."

He drove them to a spot about two miles from their parents' house. It was an area of Toronto Casey knew fairly well, although she hadn't spent much time there. In her childhood days it had been a warehouse district, full of tall, Victorian constructions built to house trade goods on their way into or out of Canada more than a hundred years ago. She had little cause to visit the area as a child, the change in commerce had brought low income and high crime. But, as with many Western cities in recent decades, areas of deprivation turned out to be close to the centre of the city and rarely stayed depressed for long. Like the east end of London, or the clothing district of New York, large, well-built but dilapidated buildings had been renovated, transformed into attractive, commodious residences.

It was to one such development Derek drove now, parking in the purpose-built garage on the ground floor. Soon they were exiting the car and the garage and making their way through a wrought iron gate, keypad-controlled. It led to a large atrium with a pair of decent sized elevators.

"Where are we?" Casey hissed as they rode to the ninth floor.

"You'll see." Derek told her, propelling them both onward and upward.

At the ninth floor, there was a small landing with two doors. Beside one of the doors, sitting on the floor, was a very bored looking woman.

"I'm sorry." Derek apologised. "We had to view an autopsy."

Casey blinked at his bluntness, but the reaction from the woman indicated he'd said the right thing.

"Oh…no problem at all Sergeant Venturi." She simpered.

Casey bit her lip to stop herself giggling. She'd always struggled with Derek's job titles. They sounded so…respectable.

The woman stood up and fished in her handbag for something. It turned out to be a key, which she used to open the door beside which she had been resting.

"We've furnished it as requested." The young woman had switched into salesperson mode, though by now even Casey had realised the deal had been done. "New beds, living room suite, white goods…, extra-large fridge and TV." Casey had a coughing fit.

"Predictable!" She hissed. Derek smirked at her.

"Of course!" He beamed.

"You have three months to identify any issues with the build quality. We assume there will be some and book a follow up visit at the three, or four, month mark. If you can, I would avoid calling the builders in any sooner. They get antsy."

Derek smiled. "No problem".

"So, all I need is some identification from Miss MacDonald…and a couple of signatures from you both. Then I can give you the keys and I'll leave it to you."

It was quite a while after the realtor had left that Casey realised someone had pulled the wool over her eyes.

"Why did I have to sign the lease?" She asked Derek who was playing with technology.

He was fiddling with the TV and answered distractedly. "What lease?"

"The lease on the apartment, Derek."

Derek put the remote down. "I'm not leasing the apartment. I told you, I bought it. Surely you read the small print, madam lawyer?"

"Ok…why am I signing purchase paperwork on your apartment?"

"It's not my apartment, it's our apartment. Don't worry, I'll expect you to pay towards it."

Casey narrowed her eyes. "Ahhhh! Now I get it. You can't afford it on your own."

Derek pretended to be shot in the heart. "Gee… you got me!" He lied. Casey looked surprised. She always could spot a Derek lie at a hundred paces.

"Seriously? That's not your game?"

Derek shrugged. "I'm trying to give you a fresh start, remember?" He told her. "You can pay towards it if you like. But," he gave a deep sigh. "Being realistic, I'm a cop. I just wanted to give you security in case anything should happen to me. This way if I die no one can evict you, the apartment will be yours."

Casey pulled a face. "Don't." She stated in a small voice. "I don't want…"

"Good news! Neither do I. No one is more invested in my survival than me, Case."

She smiled weakly at him. "Moot point actually."

Derek put down the remote and crossed the room. "I'm trusting us to be grown up about this whole process. I'm serious about the contract thing. I don't want you to have to worry if something happens to me. But, if we fall out, we have to do so in such a way that no one ends up on the street unnecessarily and at short notice. Deal?"

"That sounds remarkably civilised for you and me, Derek." Casey commented.

He chuckled and scratched his head. "Yeah, it does, doesn't it? Come on. I'll give you the guided tour."

When they had been at college, Derek and Casey had shared student accommodation for a while; a cold, damp building where the slugs were as happy having a party in the living room at night as the students. As graduates, there had been another brief time where they had shared a rental, slightly warmer, better décor but compact and bijoux.

This apartment was neither.

It was largely open plan with a double height main room and a mezzanine level containing two bedrooms and two large en-suites. A small washroom downstairs was just off the main living space.

The décor and feel was New York loft, but what could have felt overly masculine and full of hard lines had been softened by strategic plastered walls amongst the brickwork, a large functional kitchen and floor to ceiling windows along one side of the apartment. The view reached over the city and Casey could tell it would be spectacular at night.

"I had the white goods and fridge sectioned off from the kitchen." Derek told her. "Nothing worse than the spin cycle going during a hockey game."

Casey snorted.

"Is that a dig at me, Venturi?" She asked, recalling a standing argument from their student days that Casey always seemed to be doing her washing whenever Derek had the use of the TV. He smirked.

"Why risk it?" He commented, pointing at the large TV. "It has surround sound and you can play music throughout the apartment by voice command."

"Geek." Casey laughed.

"Just you wait until you see the size of the bath in your en-suite." Derek nodded as he spoke. "Let's see if you start complaining then."

He grabbed her hand and dragged her to the staircase and, for the first time, it never occurred to either of them that Casey wouldn't be able to run up the stairs. She managed them easily, though neither of them noticed.

"Your room." Derek announced, throwing open the door onto a bright space. The large room was light because it was painted a chalky white tone and had a large floor-to-ceiling window at one end. There was modern, tasteful furniture in a golden oak, a King-sized bed – bare but commodious - and another television placed opposite the bed. The en-suite tiled in large, white porcelain, was only half the size of the bedroom and contained not only a double shower, but also a large bath tub.

"Wow! It's amazing! And big…Can we have a cleaner?"

Derek laughed. "Sure. Is everything up to Casey Code?"

Casey nodded. "It's amazing, Derek. Show me your room. I assume it's bigger." Derek led the way to the next door bedroom.

"Not really. Slightly smaller, actually. I knew you'd want the bath."

"But…"

"Case. My room is fine…great, even. Same fantastic view, same size bed."

Casey walked around his room carefully, paying attention to all the details, opening drawers. Then she paused at the window.

"Thank you." She said quietly. "I could never have done this on my own."

Derek came and stood behind her. "You could, but it might have taken a couple of years. This way, we speed things up a bit."

"And you're sure I won't cramp your style?" Casey turned to look at him.

"And what style is that?" He asked, fixed his gaze on her. Casey blinked and looked down at her feet.

"You have your own place for the first time ever. It's the kind of place any woman would be more than happy to spend the night in - and you bring your step-sister to live in it with you."

"I've brought my best friend to live in it with me. Is she happy to spend the night in it?" Derek asked, flicking her hair from the corner of her eyes.

"Yes." Casey murmured, lost somewhere in the past.

"Good. Coz, the chances are you are going to be spending more time in this apartment than I am. You know what my hours are like."

"I just don't want to…"

"You won't." He reassured her. "You never could."

"I used to."

Derek smiled. "Usually for very good reasons."

Casey glanced up with a smile. "Did I ever do real damage to your sex life?"

"It balances out."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Casey protested as Derek walked towards the door. He turned and grinned.

"Let me know when you work it out."

* * *

After they visited the apartment, Derek had planned to drop Casey back at the family home. Casey, however, had other ideas.

"It would really help if I could go into the office." Casey told him. "It's been a while since I've seen Bea and I need to give her my latest notes on her case." She nodded towards the bag in the back of the car.

"How will you get home?" Derek started the car engine and began to pull out of the garage.

Casey tilted her head to one side, thoughtfully. "You know, I think someone invented something called a taxi…" She suggested. Derek pulled a face at her.

"Alright, alright. Cut the crap. I only asked." He told her. "You do realise how far you've come since last week don't you, oh timid one?!" She grinned.

"With or without the side trip to Quebec?" Casey teased.

"You know what I mean."

Casey smiled. "I do." She put her hand on his. "Thank you. As usual, I am where I am because of you."

Derek paused at a Stop sign. "And that's a good thing because…?"

"…the alternative was rather depressing. Thanks to you I have a future. Or at least an apartment. It's making me fell rather giddy."

"Do we need to take your blood pressure again?" Derek asked facetiously. They both chuckled. "OK. Dad's chambers it is then."

* * *

"What do we have?" Derek asked, flinging himself into his chair. The office he shared with Jazz was large, but with the addition of Jazz, their boss and half of the senior team, it was beginning to feel cosy.

"Sophie Gardine. Dancer. At the time of her death, this week, she was aged 28. However, she was also pronounced dead five years ago at the scene of a serious car crash."

"It's definitely her, this time?" One of the other officers asked. Derek nodded.

"Verified visual ID, plus when we ran the dentals against the victim they match." He shuffled his papers. "Of course, they matched the DB five years ago as well."

"No visual then?"

"Nah. She was toast." One of Derek's more junior colleagues commented, distastefully.

Jazz kicked the chair out from under him. "You disrespect the victim again like that and you'll be toast too." He told the guy crawling around on the floor trying to get up.

Derek nodded at his partner. "When Sophie was found, she had a photograph on her body, tucked inside her underwear. A photograph of a group of people at a party. We think it's connected."

"Sorry, D. Is it really that important?" Coming from one of Derek's respected colleagues, it was, after all a valid question.

Jazz nodded. "Casey's in the picture."

There was a sudden murmur which rolled around the room.

"Oh crap." The same guy commented. "Sorry D. I didn't know."

"It's fine." Derek lied. He didn't have a problem with his colleague. He did still have a problem with Casey crossing the line into his work life. "What I need, what we need, is to track Sophie's movements over the past five years. It's important," He held his hand up to forestall his colleagues. "It's important because quite apart from Sophie's death, it appears five years ago she was pregnant. The coroner says she gave birth. Not only do we have a murder to solve, but we also need to find that child and make sure they are safe. I cannot emphasis enough just how important this is."

"Agreed." Derek's boss backed him up. "What do we have go on to find him or her?"

Jazz stood up and moved to a whiteboard with a pen. "Sophie is a rare blood group. AB-. Not only is her blood group likely to get flagged up when she gives birth because she's rhesus negative, but AB is rare too. I need you guys to get onto the hospitals, looking at records for births in this area from approximately five years ago. Cross check blood groups. If she gave birth in the Toronto area, she'll be listed."

"And if not?"

"If you get to the point when you are down to your last handful of medical institutions, start opening the list to the surrounding areas. We think she was six months' pregnant five years ago. Somewhere she gave birth."

* * *

Bea was really pleased to see Casey and whisked her off into her little office on the second floor.

"Great choice of outfit, Case! I approve. Now, I want to know _everything_." She insisted, shutting the office door behind them. "Did you share a bed? Did he kiss you? Did you roll out the lingerie?"

Casey looked at her friend as though she had sprung two heads. "Uh…no."

Bea looked disappointed. Casey took pity on her. "But I wore the swimsuit." She informed her friend. "Derek's not massively impressed with your choice but…"

Bea's expression changed to an offended look. "Derek didn't like it?" She asked in confusion. "Seriously? Is the guy even human?"

Casey shook her head. "I've asked myself that very question a number of times over the years, but I doubt it's that. The swimsuit left me a little _exposed_."

"Exposed?"

"It wasn't only Derek and I in the pool." Casey explained. Bea grinned

"He felt like he had competition?" She suggested, hopefully.

"No, Bea. I don't like showing my scars in public." Casey explained with a strained look.

Bea sat down heavily in her chair. "Oh, god, Casey. I'm so sorry."

Casey smiled. "It's okay. You meant well. And I wore the thing. It's probably going in the bin, but I wore it." She laughed. "It's not me you need to provide an explanation to, however. It's Derek. He's a little protective."

Bea frowned. "That's good, I suppose."

"Seriously, if you're trying to make me look attractive for Derek," Casey laughed at her friend. "the ship left port a long time ago on that one, sweetie. But I appreciate the effort. What we really need to be talking about is you…and Jazz."

"I'm more of a rock chick."

"Ha ha." Casey told her with a snort. "We both know what I mean."

Bea feigned an innocent look. "Jason and I would be a complete disaster. We hate each other."

Casey snorted. "Really? If you really hate someone you totally ignore them. You walk away from confrontation and you never think about them. I'm fairly sure you two each spend hours working out what you will argue about the next time you meet. You could just be polite when you see him, but somehow you can't bring yourself to be like that."

"That's not true." Bea protested.

"There's a saying." Casey said, opening her files and getting ready to work. "Don't kid a kidder."

* * *

Constable Strong put down the phone on her desk and stared at her notes, thoughtfully. She flicked through the pile of papers and regarded the "Post IT" notes attached to each one. Finally, she looked at the map. It showed the area near to where Sophie's body had been found (the second time). It also showed the area where they were fairly sure the fight that led to her death had begun. Agatha Strong had never expected to find the second crime scene, she was just naturally a pessimist, and it was one of those situations where assuming the worst had paid off. Now, however, Sergeant Venturi was asking her to work the same magic again, pulling a bunny out of the hat when she didn't know what the hat looked like and she was fairly sure all the bunnies were out to lunch.

Agatha tried to put herself into the victim's shoes for the fiftieth time. You have a fight… _here_ …you stagger away along _this_ path, you stumble into an alleyway. You are found dead… _here_. (Two seemingly unrelated areas of Toronto. However, they were staggering distance from each other.) You don't ask for help or assistance for more than a mile and a half, even though you pass two police stations and various other points of refuge.

Agatha had checked. The victim had passed more than forty businesses on the way to her final destination and she hadn't asked for help in any of them. Where had she been aiming for? Derek had suggested looking for places of refuge, but he hadn't been specific. Agatha understood there was a reason for that. What one person considered a refuge was another person's idea of hell.

Maybe it was a coincidence that Agatha's brain and eyes co-ordinated for once. A certain point on the map suddenly because interesting, because at that moment, going through Agatha's mind was the phrase "idea of hell". As soon as Agatha saw it, however, she knew it was the right place.


	11. Chapter Eleven Sancta Sanctorum

**Chapter Eleven – When We Were Young**

 _ **Toronto, Six Years Previously**_

 _It was dark, and Derek was new to the area. If this turned into a chase scenario, it was inevitable he would get lost. As the junior partner, Derek had been given the back entrance to cover, but that didn't give him any degree of comfort. Nor did his uniform offer the reassurance it usually did. The words of his watch commander at roll call rang through his brain._

 _"This guy is a cop-killer. He's taken two of our finest in the past forty-eight hours. So,_ _no_ _heroics. We will get him at some point through good old-fashioned police work. We do this by the book and we'll avoid more unnecessary loss of life. Go out onto the streets, do your job and your duty, come back to the station in one piece." He paused. "And if one of you upstanding officers just happens to put a bullet through the brain of this…monster, I'll personally sign off on all your requests for leave for the next six months."_

 _They had all laughed at that, but Derek knew that even the most experienced amongst them were apprehensive about that day's tour. And Derek was still very junior._

 _Just hours later, as he hid in the bushes at the back of the house, his radio crackled with the voice of the same sergeant. "Okay guys. On my command. In three, two…"_

 _BANG!_

 _The shot rang out, closely followed by a cry of pain._

 _"Sarge!" Derek heard Jazz call out from somewhere around the front._

 _"All units, officer down!" the radio crackled._

 _"One. GO!" Derek's sergeant continued in a desperate voice, full of pain._

 _Then, at the front of the house, the shooting started._

 _Derek stood frozen in fear. Without his training and twelve months on the job, he might have thought he needed to go back around to the front of the building. But he held his position. Re-enforcements, surely on their way by now, would join his colleagues at the front of the house. Then they would move around to join him at the back. Leaving his position now would be a mistake. He might miss the target making a break for it._

 _Derek became alert!_

 _A window was opening on the second floor and someone was emerging. Since the house had roofs at various levels, it wasn't a difficult task for the escapee to climb down from the window. Clearly, so far, he hadn't spotted Derek._

 _Derek let him get to the last level, stood up and identified himself._

 _"Freeze! Toronto PD!"_

 _The suspect barely paused, but he did turn into the light and Derek saw it was the man they were looking for. In his hand he was carrying a handgun. Probably the one he had just shot Derek's sergeant with._

 _The suspect laughed. "Who let the babies out?!" He taunted Derek._

 _"One more step…" Derek warned him. "You're under arrest on suspicion of the murder of two police officers. If you do not stop, I will shoot. I am authorised to shoot to kill."_

 _"Yeah. But you won't." The guy replied and jumped down to ground level. He took two steps towards Derek._

 _Derek fired._

* * *

 _Casey arrived at the police station in a blind panic. The front desk was in similar disarray. Casey looked at the long line ahead of her and darted from foot to foot impatiently._

 _"Casey?" A voice asked from her right. Casey turned and had to raise her eyes to see the tall, black man before her. He was dressed in a similar uniform to the one Derek wore and his appearance – or the attractiveness of his face at least – rang a bell, even though she'd never met him before._

 _"Jazz?" Casey asked tentatively._

 _The guy before her laughed. "Yeah. Wow! Derek wasn't kidding."_

 _Casey raised an eyebrow. "Meaning?" She prompted._

 _"Meaning I'll shut up now before he strings me up by some parts of my anatomy that I'm rather fond of. It's good to finally meet you. Derek's told me a lot about you."_

 _"And you. I've heard some stories – mostly good, although, I do have to warn you…some of them? What impresses my step-brother rarely impresses me."_

 _Jazz frowned. "Step-brother?"_

 _Casey nodded. "Derek."_

 _Jazz's eyes widened. "Now_ _ **that**_ _he didn't tell me."_

 _"Then how did you know who I am?"_

 _"Photo in his locker." Jazz explained._

 _"Of the family?"_

 _Jazz smirked. "Yeah. That as well." He looked behind him. "They called you in?"_

 _Casey nodded. "Something about a shooting." She looked concerned. "Is Derek okay?"_

 _Jazz pulled a face and started leading her towards the back office. "Physically…yeah."_

 _Casey sighed with relief. "Yeah, well, don't worry about the mental side. That's been defective for years."_

 _Jazz stopped. "Casey…" He began. Casey looked concerned._

 _"Jazz…" She asked. "What's going on?"_

 _"You see the news this week about this gunman who's been targeting police officers?"_

 _"Yeah."_

 _"Derek shot and killed him in the early hours of this morning."_

 _Casey's jaw dropped. "Oh my god!"_

 _"After the investigation he'll probably get a medal for gallantry or something." Jazz reassured her. "But he's not taking it so well. That's why the Inspector called you."_

 _A burly guy stuck his head round the general counter. "Stop chatting up the locals, Ransome and do something useful."_

 _"Inspector. This is Casey MacDonald. Venturi's step-sister. You called her, remember?"_

 _The Inspector's eyes widened, and he disappeared around the corner, only to reappear at a connecting door._

 _"Miss MacDonald, you'd best come with me. And you, Ransome. Do some work!"_

 _Casey followed the more senior guy behind the scenes of the Police Station reception. He led the way through, what can only be described as, organised chaos to a smallish office at the back of the building._

 _"Jazz tell you what happened?" The Inspector asked as they walked._

 _"Erm, yes. I'm confused why you called me, though. Derek and I…I'm not his next-of-kin."_

 _"Yeah, but your family is in London. You live with him in Toronto. You're local. We couldn't afford to wait for your family to get here. Venturi's a good cop and the shooting was sound, so he'll get a medal. But he's beating himself up about it." The officer paused. "It goes one way or the other the first time. They either find it a release and I spend my time rounding them up to try and stop them from getting cannon-happy. Or…"_

 _"Or what?" Casey cautiously._

 _"Or the good ones…they react like Derek."_

 _"Is he okay?" Casey asked with concern. Even if their relationship hadn't improved over the past few years, Casey would still have been worried. Like it or not Derek was a part of her family._

 _"See for yourself." The older man said and threw open the door to the room where Derek was sitting. Then, tactfully, he withdrew. Casey let her eyes scan the room to survey the scene._

 _It was a small box of a room with no windows. Probably an interrogation room, though he hadn't been locked in and there was no sign of handcuffs. Derek sat at the table like a prisoner, however. The kind of prisoner who should be wearing a strait-jacket. His eyes didn't lift to meet hers, there was no smile or even a smirk of recognition. He just looked blankly at the wall._

 _"Derek?" Not even a flinch. Casey walked to the opposite chair, picked it up and placed it beside Derek. He paid no attention. Casey reached over to touch his hand. This time he did flinch, with a large jerk._

 _"Derek. Talk to me." Casey prompted. But it was to no avail._

 _Casey stood up, walked to the door and opened it. The Inspector was waiting outside._

 _"They do de-briefs after this sort of stuff, don't they?" She asked. He nodded._

 _"Yeah. Thankfully he didn't shut down until that was over."_

 _Casey glanced back into the room and saw Derek was shaking._

 _"So, he's not needed right now? Any reason why I can't take him home?"_

 _The Inspector shook his head and then watched as Casey walked back to Derek and pulled him up on to his feet._

 _"Come on Derek. Let's get you home." Casey suggested and to her surprise, he let her lead him to the door._

 _It was a quiet drive home. Neither of them said anything. Derek just stared ahead as though he was numb to his surroundings. Casey drove in silence, concentrating on the road and the traffic, deciding she would deal with the situation when they arrived._

 _Once through the front door of their rented apartment, Casey put down her purse and her keys and turned to the man beside her. He looked more like a child._

 _"You've been up all night." Casey told him. "Why don't you go get into bed and I'll bring you something to drink?"_

 _Derek nodded and disappeared into his bedroom, leaving Casey in the hallway. She leaned back against the wall and blew out a long breath. This was so unlike Derek. She stood up straight again and walked to the kitchen. For a moment she let her hand hover over the cupboard containing the alcohol, but in the end decided the more sensible option was hot chocolate. It didn't take long to make, even though she made herself a mug as well, and she took both the mugs to Derek's bedroom._

 _It was lunchtime, but there was rain outside so the room was gloomy. Or maybe it was just the mood of the two people within it. Derek had managed to make it as far as the bed, but that was all. He was still fully dressed in sweat pants from his locker – his uniform had been claimed by the investigation team as evidence. He was gazing at the ceiling when Casey knocked at the open door and then entered without permission._

 _"Chocolate." She told him unnecessarily handing him the mug. Derek took it with a nod of thanks, but when he sipped it, he frowned._

 _"Where's the rum?" He complained._

 _"Like I'm letting you turn to drink in a situation like this." She countered. "I did put marshmallows in it, though."_

 _On any other occasion, Derek would have made some quick-witted quip. Today the snark just wasn't there. Casey sighed, very deliberately put her own mug on his bedside table and climbed onto the bed next to him. Then she picked up her mug and started to sip it._

 _Neither of them said a word._

 _When the hot chocolate was drunk, Derek put the mug on the side and leaned back on the pillows. Casey did likewise and then, in a move completely out of character for her and their relationship, she rolled onto her side and put her head on his shoulder. Derek glanced at her briefly but didn't shrug her off._

 _Instead, he closed his eyes and went to sleep._

 _Casey smiled sadly._

 _It was dark when they both woke. Casey was still snuggled into his side and Derek's head was turned into her hair._

 _"He was a killer and I'd do it again." He said quietly. "But that doesn't mean I have to like it – or talk about it. I took a life."_

 _"No. But talking about it might make it easier to deal with." Casey lifted a sleepy head and looked at him. "I don't mean talk to me or anyone else you know. I mean…"_

 _"A shrink." Derek completed for her in tone that made no secret of his thoughts on the idea._

 _"I wouldn't go that far. What about the department therapist?"_

 _Derek snorted. "Not happening. You seriously think the stuff I tell them wouldn't get back to the Inspector?"_

 _Casey rested her head on her hand. "Ok, but find someone, Derek. Even if it's Paul Greeby, just find someone."_

 _"Greeby?!" Derek was confused. "He was just a computer science teacher paid extra to listen to your ramblings."_

 _"It got us through high school, didn't it?"_

 _Derek snorted. "WE got US through high school. It's one of the miracles of social interaction and human behaviour that we didn't kill each other before we graduated. Even now we still have our moments."_

 _Casey ignored him. "Paul's got a Master's in Psychology now."_

 _"Where from? Online-Diplomas-are-us-dotcom?" The hot chocolate appeared to be working. The snark was edging back._

 _"U of T actually. Emily was telling me the other day."_

 _Derek shook his head in disbelief and looked up at the face hovering over him._

 _"I'll think about it." He told her and then, when she seemed about to protest, "When I crashed out of my hockey scholarship the university allocated me a counselling service. They have a branch in Toronto that I visited a couple of times."_

 _Casey kept the surprise from her face._

 _"Good. Because this isn't you and it isn't ON you. You were defending yourself."_

 _"I get it Casey, honestly I do. It's just…he was human and now he's dead. Because of me."_

 _"Because of his own actions." Casey rolled onto her back. "What about your colleagues? The two who he shot."_

 _"Three. He shot my sergeant just before I killed him."_

 _"Is he…?"_

 _"I actually don't know. He was critical when last I heard." Derek sat up. "I should find out."_

 _Casey sat up beside him. "And you should eat something." She told him. "When did you last eat?"_

 _"What day is it?" Derek asked. Casey looked exasperatedly at him._

 _"Come on. We'll pick up pizza on the way to the hospital."_

* * *

"You look miles away." Bea commented to Casey as they worked in her office.

Casey smiled. "Just remembering." She told Bea with a small smile.

"Anything important?" Bea asked gently, knowing how fragile Casey's memory was.

Casey shrugged. "Depends on how you view life – and love." She commented cryptically.

Before Casey could be quizzed further, her cell phone rang. She frowned. Bea was the only person who ever called her cell phone. Casey rarely left the house, so her mother never called, and her late-night conversations with Derek were via text to avoid waking the rest of the house. She looked at the display.

 **Stuart Calling…**

It was only a few hours since she had last seen Stuart; Casey was confused. She held up a finger to Bea and leaned back in her chair.

"Hi Stew Pot!" She greeted him with his old nickname, pleased that she had remembered it when they were in Quebec. On the other side of the desk, Bea raised an eyebrow.

"Hi beautiful!" Stuart greeted Casey from the other end of the line. "Recovered from this morning's field trip?"

Casey sighed. "I guess. It's not really something I ever want to get used to. I don't know how Derek does it."

"He compartmentalises, honey. They all do. It's what they need to do to survive."

Casey thought back to the memory she had just relived moments before. "Yes. I see your point." She agreed with a sigh. "So many compartments. So much to block out."

"Don't start getting all morbid on me, Case. I've rung with good news."

"Oh?"

"I was talking to some of the dance company about Sophie and how we were trying to work out what was going on. One of my chorus girls – I'd forgotten she was even in our old setup – reminded me she roomed with Sophie for a while. Do you remember Mimi? I'm not sure they were particularly close friends, but they got on well enough. She says she's happy to chat about Sophie's life back then."

Casey sat up in her chair. "Really?! Wow!"

"Yeah. Good news, eh? Anyway, she's agreed to meet with you and Derek the day after tomorrow. She's going to be out of town until then, at some family wedding. I've arranged for her to be at my bar that evening. You'll get chance to quiz her while she's chilled. Can you let Derek know? I'll give you the address."

"Thank you. Your bar?" Casey asked. "Is this a sideline?"

Stuart giggled. "Well, actually it's my new boyfriend's place, but I'm kind of a silent partner. It's sort of how we met. He needed some financial backing, a mutual friend put us in touch with each other. The rest is history. The bar's an unexpected success, especially when you consider how "hands-off" I actually am. We do live music nights. That's our most popular event there. It'll be open mike night when you're there."

"Open mike night?" Casey repeated cautiously. Bea raised an eyebrow.

"Remember when you and Jesse used to get up and duet?"

Casey groaned. "Don't remind me!" She begged. Stuart laughed.

"Anyway, Mimi will be there and she's ready to chat. Just let Derek and Jazz know."

Stuart rang off slightly afterwards leaving Casey looking at her phone in surprise. Bea leaned forward. "Open mike night?" She asked with amusement.

Casey shook herself. "That was the guy who we went to see in Quebec. He was phoning to tell me that he has a lead on our late friend. Someone who used to live with her is going to be at a bar in Toronto the day after tomorrow. He wants us to go and meet her."

"Us?"

"Me, Derek, Jazz…" Casey looked up at Bea, remembering the conversation she'd had with Derek previously about Jazz and Bea. "You know you should come." She suggested. "Make a fourth."

"Double date?" Bea asked with a laugh.

"Not exactly. But it would be fun to finally get out and let my hair down."

Bea smiled. "Yes, it would. Okay, I'm in."

* * *

The building was early Victorian, looked after and maintained, but not well-maintained. Agatha stood outside and looked up at its imposing façade. She wondered what it was like to enter the building, knowing you were unlikely to leave its protective enclosure ever again.

"What makes you think this is it?" The female uniformed constable beside her asked.

Agatha smiled. "Not a clue." She admitted. "But Detective Venturi wanted lists of places where the victim might have felt safe. This was one of the few places left to try."

The constable looked thoughtful. "I think we may have had a wasted journey."

Agatha frowned. "You disagree with me?"

The uniformed constable shook her head. "No. Your reasoning is sound. I was referring to that." She pointed to a small plate beside the door. It read "Strictly No Admittance. All enquiries should be made in writing."

Agatha groaned. "Nothing about this case is easy." She complained. "So much legwork! BUT…Let's give the door a knock and see how strict "strictly" is."

Half an hour later, she was back in Derek's office, still empty-handed and venting. Derek understood her frustration. He'd done his fair share of legwork as a constable. He also understood the pressure to perform for the boss. Before she'd even opened her mouth, he placed a cup of coffee in front of her. Jazz threw a packet of cookies Agatha's way.

"Frustrating day?" Derek asked sympathetically. Agatha nodded.

"It was always a long shot that you'd find where Sophie was heading." He told her. "No one can fault your efforts." Agatha shook her head.

"No, you misunderstand. I'm fairly sure I know where she was going. I've been there and taken a look. The place is like Fort Knox. She would have been totally safe there, no matter who was after her."

Derek sat forward. "Go on. What's the problem?"

"I can't confirm it for sure because it's wrapped up so tightly, I can't gain access to the building to ask around. I've tried and, despite the fact I watched someone enter the building moments before I got out of the car, I can't get anyone to answer the door. There's a sign saying, 'strictly no admittance'."

Jazz looked at Derek. "Search warrant?" He queried. Derek shrugged.

"I wouldn't." Agatha said quietly sipping her coffee. "The Bishop wouldn't like it."

Derek's eyes widened, and a look of enlightenment passed over his face.

"Oh my god!" He smirked to Jazz. "Literally… She was making for the convent!"

Jazz looked confused. "What convent?" He pulled a face at Derek. "Don't look at me like that, I haven't been to church since I was thrown out of the choir for leading the young sopranos astray."

"You're an animal." Derek noted.

Jazz snorted. "Believe me, there was nothing angelic about those ladies."

"You don't need to go to church to know the building Agatha is talking about. She's right. It is like Fort Knox and it will have given our victim a real sense of security." He smiled at Agatha. "Good work. I think you and I should go and check it out. We'll leave the devil incarnate here so that he doesn't deflower more of God's handmaidens."

Agatha was hesitant. "We won't be able to get in." She reminded him. Derek shrugged.

"I'll give the Bishop a call." He explained. "Once he understands what this is about, I'm sure we'll be allowed to meet with someone."

"You seem to have great faith in your powers of persuasion." Jazz commented.

"Not really. The Bish and I go way back." Derek told them both. "I used to patrol his area when I was a beat cop and he was a Monsignor. He once locked himself out of his car and I broke into it for him."

The Bishop did indeed remember Derek and his previous service. He invited Derek to join him for tea later that afternoon…at the convent.

"It's been a little while since I last poked my nose in with the good sisters. Why don't you join me?" He suggested. Derek agreed readily. "But you'll need to pick me up." The Bishop told him. "I've lost my car keys."

* * *

"Are you Catholic?" Agatha asked as they drove to the Bishop's residence. "I just ask because you connected with the Bishop."

Derek, who was driving, shook his head.

"Not lately." He smiled at his junior colleague's face. "Not ever, but my grandparents were. Italian heritage. But, the further from Rome you get…"

Agatha nodded. Derek went on.

"My…step-sister's father put her through a Catholic private school for a while. All uniform and long socks, but I don't think even he was serious about it, since he divorced Casey's mom…or maybe it was the other way around." He frowned. "I'm not sure we've even had that discussion."

Agatha didn't know what to say so she said nothing. He continued.

"But the Bishop's a good guy. Still drives himself out into the community, helps out at food banks and so on. What about you?"

Agatha shook her head. "My mother wants to be buried in a cardboard coffin in a wood. My father jokes that he wants to be left on a mountain top for the vultures." Derek looked horrified. Agatha grinned. "He says the vultures in suits get him in life, the ones with feathers might as well have him when he dies."

They both laughed.

"So where do we start with the questioning?" Agatha changed the subject. "Was Sophie Catholic?"

"Not so far as we know. It's difficult to tell though. All we have to go on are the forms she filled out for her driver's permit and so on. These days people aren't always honest about their beliefs with officialdom."

"Or their friends."

"I want to know why Sophie knew about the place and, after the hassle you had trying to get in through the door, whether she managed to do exactly that."

"Perhaps she knew someone inside."

"Exactly! If that's the case, they're someone we need to talk to."

* * *

"Welcome, your Grace. It's a been a long time." The convent doorkeeper, dressed in a simple habit, opened the door on the first knock and retreated to one side. The Bishop led the way into the entrance hall and turned to the young woman who still held the door handle.

"My blessings on you, sister. In the name of our Father, and the Son and the Holy Spirit."

He made the sign of the cross in the air above her head and they both said "Amen."

Bishop Matthews turned to Derek and Agatha. "These are my friends. They will be joining us for afternoon tea."

"They are welcome." A new voice spoke from the other side of the room. Derek looked up and saw an attractive woman of about sixty in a slightly less plain habit.

"Ah Sr Cecilia! Thank you so much for extending the invitation to join you. It is a pleasure to see you, as always." He performed the same benediction over the more senior woman as he had over the doorkeeper.

"Less an invitation, more following orders." Sr Cecilia replied wryly as soon as the blessing was concluded. "Your own…of course!"

The Bishop shrugged. "Well, if you will make it ridiculously hard for ordinary persons to get an audience with yourself, you'll need to forgive us our frivolities. Surely, it's easier to get an audience with the Holy Father than it is to take tea with yourself."

"Sanctuary. Your Grace. The holiness of isolation." She turned around and led them down a long corridor to a small sitting room. Opening the door, she showed them inside, indicating an arrangement of couches for them to be seated. Derek and Agatha entered the room but did not sit. It was clear that the Bishop had a message to convey to his Mother Superior and they waited for him to deliver it.

"Prayer is best shared, Cecy. Out in the world."

"Our prayer is shared, within these walls with those who prefer not to walk in the world outside."

"Sanctuary or Sancta Sanctorum?" The Bishop made what was obviously a type of private joke.

"You say potato." The Mother Superior quipped with a grin. "Sit, old friend. I meant it. You are welcome."

They all sat down, and another nun appeared with a tea tray and cake. The Bishop, who was a little on the portly side, hesitated for a moment and then took a slice of lemon cake.

"The children have been practising their baking skills." Sr Cecilia explained.

"Children?" Agatha asked.

Sr Cecilia smiled. "His Grace would have you believe we cut ourselves off from the community but it's not entirely true. Some of our sisters go out into the local schools and provide extra-curricular lessons, such as cooking and personal care. The secular world moves more towards the academics. We like to know that the basics are catered for: Care, compassion…the ability to put a meal on the table."

Bishop Matthews nodded. "On this we do agree. There is much need for a kind word in some homes where the focus is more on pecuniary growth. It's not just the poor who need compassion."

They sipped their tea in silence for a moment while Derek tried to work out how to begin questioning the lady before him. He had just decided that she would appreciate forthright words rather than a softly, softly approach when she did his job for him.

"So, Bishop Matthews. Are you going to introduce your friends to me and tell me why they are here?"

The Bishop had a mouthful of cake so merely nodded at Derek. Derek shared an eyeroll with the Mother Superior and then sat slightly forward.

"My name is Derek Venturi. I'm a Detective Sergeant with the Toronto Police Department. This is Constable Agatha Strong. I'm afraid we need to ask you some questions regarding someone who may have visited your house."

It was immediately apparent that Sr Cecilia was unhappy with this information.

"Why?" She asked curtly.

Derek wasn't fazed by her tone.

"Because it's important." He replied meeting her gaze. After a moment's stand-off, Derek decided to be the better person. "There has been an incident and we feel certain the person involved was making for your convent. We believe they were seeking sanctuary."

"An incident?" Sr Cecilia queried and then, when Derek didn't answer, "Many seek sanctuary here. Only those who _wish_ to step outside the front door need to. It sounds to me as though this person sought privacy. If you are correct and they were coming here, even if I could tell you anything about them, the question is why would I? It would be a breach of their confidence."

Derek nodded. "Under normal circumstances, yes. But may I show you a photograph and then you can decide if it is possible to answer my questions?"

Sr Cecilia was thoughtful. "I suppose that would be acceptable." She agreed.

Derek looked towards Agatha, who produced a photograph from her purse.

This time the photograph was different. There was no way Derek was going to show a roomful of nuns the post-mortem photographs of Sophie. Instead, Stuart and Casey had managed to produce a publicity photograph from five years ago. It was the most up-to-date photograph they had of a living Sophie.

Agatha passed it to Sr Cecilia who glanced at it and looked up at Agatha and Derek. Her face was neutral, impassive but Derek knew immediately that she had met Sophie.

"What do you want to know?" Sr Cecilia asked.

Agatha looked at Derek and he picked up the tea cup in front of him again.

"Do you recognise the girl in the picture?"

The Mother Superior paused. "Yes."

"She came here recently?"

"No."

Derek frowned. "When did you last see her?"

There was silence and then Sr Cecilia handed the photograph back to Agatha. "By the looks of that picture, probably about the same time as it was taken."

Agatha's heart sank. Another dead end.

"What were the circumstances of that visit?" This time it was the Bishop who spoke. The Mother Superior turned to look at him.

"I'm not sure I can answer that." She told him.

Derek took a deep breath. "It's very important that you do."

"In your opinion." Sr Cecilia comment. "In my opinion, it's important that I don't."

"Cecy…" The Bishop started. Derek held his hand up.

"I've got this, your Grace. Sr Cecilia, five years ago Sophie Gardine was a dancer in a Toronto dance company. One day, returning from a show her car was in an accident. We assumed – and basic forensics seemed to confirm – that the body slumped by the driver's seat was Sophie's. Sophie was pronounced dead."

Derek looked at Sr Cecilia. None of this appeared to be news to the Mother Superior.

"But then you knew this…didn't you?"

Sr Cecilia nodded. "Sophie is dead. She has been for five years."

"And yet, you still won't tell us anything about her?" Derek prompted. The nun looked away.

"What's the point?" She asked.

"That's not the reason you won't talk about her." Derek concluded. "Is it because you know that Sophie survived the crash, and you think by not talking about her you are protecting her?"

Sr Cecilia looked at him but said nothing.

Derek reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the photograph of the party. He held it in his fingers while he spoke. "Five years ago, Sophie wasn't the only person in that car." He told her. "Someone very important to me was also there. Fortunately, she survived, but if the body in the car wasn't Sophie, it means three other souls lost their lives that night, in a crash that has never made any sense to me at all."

"The crash wasn't Sophie's fault!" The nun protested.

"I never said it was. But she walked away from it, in a way no one else did." Sr Cecilia started to protest but Derek put up his hand. "Sophie is dead, Sr Cecilia. We found her body a few days ago, just a short distance from the convent. Hidden in her clothing was a photograph – this photograph – of Sophie and some of her dancing colleagues. We don't know why the photograph was there, but we do know that Sophie was murdered. We believe she was murdered trying to get here."

The Mother Superior's face had drained of blood. "Sophie's dead?"

Agatha nodded. "A vicious, frenzied death. A crime of passion, we think."

"Her…Poor child!" Sr Cecilia exclaimed. Her eyes caught Derek's and she quickly pulled herself together. "What do you need to know?"

"When did you first meet Sophie?"

"About eleven years ago. She was recently orphaned. Her father had died many years before, then her mother died of cancer when Sophie turned seventeen. Her mother had been looked after in a Catholic Hospice and following her death, Sophie felt that she should give back to the church by giving her life to God."

"As a novitiate?" The Bishop asked. The Mother Superior nodded.

"But I couldn't accept her."

"Because?" Derek asked.

"She was too young. Too much life to live." Cecilia noted.

"You turned her away?" The Bishop noted. Sr Cecilia shook her head.

"Of course not! She was welcome. We let her stay. I couldn't let her join the convent as a nun, and after a while she grew ambitious. Dancing was always her God-given talent."

"And…?" The Bishop prompted.

"Eventually she went. We got a card from her saying she was working in a dance company but nothing more."

Derek nodded. The Mother Superior relaxed. Derek sat up.

"And five years ago?" He asked.

There was a long pause. Not from lack of knowledge or issues with Sophie. From a different level of confliction.

"She came here." The nun admitted. "In the middle of the night."

"Go on."

"Again. We let her stay, but it was always a short-term arrangement."

"And?"

"One morning she wasn't there."

* * *

"Do you believe them?" Agatha asked when they had deposited the Bishop back at his residence. It was the first time they had been alone since the Mother Superior had admitted Sophie had visited the convent.

Derek was thoughtful as he negotiated the streets back to their office.

"I believe everything she told us was true." He declared. Agatha watched him carefully.

"But…?"

"Up to a point." Derek admitted.

"Lies of omission."

"Exactly. Yes, she knew Sophie and they sheltered her for a while, as a seventeen year old. But they sheltered her again after the crash."

"She admitted that much."

Derek winced. "Not the full extent. I'm pretty sure Sophie was there for longer than just a few days."

"Because?"

"Think about it. Sophie was the survivor of a dodgy car wreck. She looked for sanctuary, (not sure why). But what was the most important fact we know about Sophie after the crash?"

Agatha frowned. "Not sure? Oh…wait! She was pregnant!"

"Exactly. Five months."

"Do you show at five months?" Agatha asked. "Sorry, I'm a bit ignorant in that department."

"Oh yeah. You show. It varies, but someone as slim as a dancer…you'd show at five months, a lot. Sophie turned up at the convent where she'd had connections for some time. It would have been obvious to the nuns what state she was in."

"They'd never let her leave." Agatha stated.

"Of course not. I'm fairly sure she turned up, asked for help and they gave it."

"What kind of help?"

"Sophie had her baby at that convent."

Agatha frowned. "You're sure?"

Derek nodded. "The Mother Superior confirmed it." He announced with confidence.

"Oh?"

Derek smiled. "Remember the bit where she said. 'Her…' dramatic pause 'Poor child'?"

Agatha's eyes widened. "The child survived!"

"Exactly!" Derek exclaimed triumphantly. "Now, the question is…where is that child? And why did that accident take place?"


	12. Chapter Twelve - When We Were Young

**Chapter Twelve – When We Were Young**

"Ladies, you look lovely." Stuart greeted the party at the reception desk. "You guys don't look too bad either." He added with a deliberate side glance to Derek and Jazz.

The whole party chuckled. He was right though. Since it was Casey's first group night out in more than five years, Bea had pulled out all the stops. She had done her research into Stuart's bar. A smart, well-received bar during the day, at night it stepped up a level with clever lighting and rearranged furniture to become a classy music venue. It had a dancefloor and small stage for select acts – or tonight's "open mike" night – crystal chandeliers which could be lowered, and even the staff's uniform changed for the evening. The patrons' dress code for the evening was smart, but a quick googling of the bar had revealed, most people took the opportunity to dress up. Derek and Jazz were in lounge suits, Casey and Bea were in long dresses.

Even Nora had felt the need for a photograph of the four as they left the house. But she had still looked worried when the cab pulled up. Derek, heart in mouth at the sight of Casey in evening dress once more, had pressed a kiss against his step-mother's cheek, murmuring quietly to her.

 _"She's with two cops and a lawyer, Nora. Casey_ _ **is**_ _a lawyer. We'll look after her and the moment she looks like she's not coping, I'll bring her straight home, I promise."_

 _"Thank you." Nora had said simply. "Just make sure she has a nice time." She swallowed. "I hardly recognise her. The change since last week…"_

 _"That's just it. Casey hasn't changed much at all. It's us that needed to change."_

 _"Me, you mean." Nora commented. Derek shook his head._

 _"You think I don't look at her looking like that and change my view of how Casey is doing?" Derek laughed and raised his voice. "I'm thinking of taking my gun tonight because I'm going to be beating away Casey's admirers all evening."_

Now as he watched the other guests arrive at the bar, Derek realised with horror that his earlier comment wasn't so far from the truth. Casey and Bea were getting a lot of attention. Casey in blue, Bea in red, their dresses were slim cut and tight at the top. Bea's dress was slit in the skirt so that she could walk, Casey's was more generous to allow her to move without showing any of the skin of her legs. Her other scars were hidden too, mainly by the fabric of the dress, however, at her neck where the dress was low cut, she was wearing a sapphire necklace. Both women had elaborate hair arrangements and professional make-up jobs. It made Derek happy to see Casey looking so well, so content. Happy...nervous and sad.

Casey moved to his side. "Do you think Bea over did it?" She asked tentatively. Derek smiled and put an arm around her. Protection, he told himself. Not possession.

"Absolutely." He told her. "Jazz would have come running if she'd turned up in jeans and a t-shirt."

"I meant with my dress." Casey clarified. Derek leaned his lips to her ear.

"You are perfect." He told her honestly and before she could reply, Stuart was leading them into the main area of the bar.

It was two days since Derek and Agatha's visit to the convent. The whole investigation team felt buoyant about the progress they had made since the discovery of Sophie's body. An unidentified victim with a grainy photograph in her underwear should have ended up as a Jane Doe residing in the morgue refrigerator until the last possible moment and then buried in an unmarked grave long before the statute of limitations ran out on her case. Instead, they not only knew who she was, but also had a decent timeline with which to begin pinning information. Now the fact-checking could begin, and progress came from more traditional police work rather than the intelligent leaps of faith shown by Derek, Jazz and Agatha.

Derek hadn't slept at home for two nights, however. Instead he had caught brief periods of rest on the office couch, taking it in turns with Jazz to supervise the rest of the team as they processed witness statements and forensics. They had taken the executive decision not to push the Mother Superior of the convent just yet. They knew now for certain that Sophie had been trying to reach the convent, and they understood why. Safety and security from a surrogate family who had already rescued her twice in her life. Derek felt sad that, this time, she hadn't made it through the door. The real priority now was determining why that sanctuary was necessary – and the whereabouts of Sophie's child.

Casey, meanwhile, had used the time on her own to catch up with her legal work and to begin the process of readying the apartment for moving in. George had agreed to Casey having a desk in their office and for the past two days he had been taking Casey to work in his car. There she would put in a proper half day of work (George's limit, not Casey's) and then at lunchtime, after a quick sandwich at the mall with Bea, Casey would go shopping for bedlinen, towels and the other essentials of a new home.

Her day finished off with a taxi journey to the apartment to drop off her new purchases and then the bus home. She was exhausted, but it was a good feeling and she fell asleep each night contented, even though part of her wanted to be in the office with Derek, finding out what happened to her friend.

At night, part of her also missed the other head on her pillow, and the warm arms around her middle. But a little distance from Derek, when nothing was certain about their relationship, was probably a good thing…probably. They texted each other more than normal, out of practicality since Casey was buying things for _their_ apartment.

"What do you think to this lamp?", "How about this blue in your bedroom?"

They also texted each other because they missed each other, though neither said it. Just messages full of the usual banter…and tension.

* * *

It was a little early and at the bar, people were still arriving for the main event. However, this meant that Stuart could take Derek's party across to the stage where his partner was busy setting up the small jazz group who would be providing background music and accompanying the performers.

"Mark, these are the friends I was telling you about: Jazz, Derek, Casey and…"

"Bea." Casey introduced her two friends to each other. "You'll like her. She has no filter." Mark and Stuart grinned and shook Bea's hand.

Mark had a wicked sense of humour and Casey was relieved to see he appeared to really care about Stuart. They seemed a great fit, which made Casey happy. Her only reservation being that Mark would never be Jesse, but then she knew even Stuart would always probably have the same reservation. She hoped that it wouldn't stop them being happy together.

After a short chat, the party moved across to a booth at the side, close to the dancefloor. A waiter appeared, ready to take their food and drink order, and they chatted contentedly while the bar filled around them and the band took their places. Stuart leaned across to Derek.

"Casey told you why I invited you tonight?" He asked.

Derek shrugged. "There's someone here who has information about Sophie."

Stuart nodded.

"Mimi's not here yet. She runs an early evening dance session at my dance studio, then she comes here every night that we have an open mike night. She'll be here about nine-ish I think."

"How does she know Sophie?"

"They roomed together for a while in the early days. Fell out a little over unpaid rent or something. Anyway, I thought she might know something about either Sophie's relatives or the father of her child. She seemed to think it would be worthwhile coming to talk to you." He took a sip of his drink and looked towards the stage.

"Thanks, Stuart." Derek said, doing likewise.

"How's Casey doing?"

Derek looked across the dancefloor to where Casey and Bea were making their way to the bathroom. Jazz was talking to the band.

"She's good so far, I guess." He told Stuart.

"I have to admit, after we visited her in hospital that one time, I wasn't sure she'd make it. I never thought I'd see her up and about, whole again."

Derek winced at Stuart use of the word 'whole'. "Appearances are deceptive." He told Stuart.

Stuart frowned. "Meaning?"

There was a pause while Derek scratched at his head, wondering just how much he wanted to share with Casey's friend. "Physically, Casey is doing great, and the amnesia…it will probably improve over time."

"Of course."

Derek shifted in his seat and took a long drink. "What about when it does?" He asked Stuart with a pained look in his eyes, "What about when she does remember?"

"The accident?"

"The accident, her lost friends…and all the other…crap."

Stuart was thoughtful. "Don't write her off, yet, Derek. She's a strong woman. She's back on her feet physically. Don't you think she can handle the mental recovery too?"

"God, I hope so. Because right now I'm fairly sure, one way or another, when she does remember, it's going to destroy her. She won't be able to forgive me and I'm going to lose her."

"Lose her?" Stuart's eyes widened. "What the hell did you do?"

Derek closed his eyes momentarily. "It's not what I did. It's what I haven't done. What I haven't told her."

"And telling her now…whatever it is…won't solve things?"

With a heavy sigh, Derek shook his head. "Too much time has passed. My only consolation is that I won't go down alone. I wasn't the only one who withheld that information. But in some ways, that makes it worse, because the people who lied by omission, they were the people she cared about most. The others she will eventually forgive. I'm not sure she'll manage that with me."

"Why?"

"Because I'm the one who **should** have told her back then. She needed to hear it from me."

"Why didn't you tell her?" Stuart was very conscious he still had no idea exactly _what_ Derek had withheld from Casey.

"I didn't want to break her heart."

They were silent then and shortly Casey and Bea returned. Stuart took Bea off to join Jazz at the band, leaving Derek and Casey together.

"You okay?" Casey asked, shuffling onto the seat next to Derek. "You look pale and sweaty, like you're sickening for something. We don't have to stay, you know. Jazz could deal with this." Derek smiled weakly in return and squeezed her hand.

"I'm fine." He lied.

"You're lying. You think I can't tell after all these years?"

"Honestly. Physically, I'm fine."

"And mentally?"

"Screwed. But then you've known that since you met me, haven't you?"

Casey smiled affectionately at him. "Bonkers." She told him. Derek tried to pull his mind together.

"You having fun?" He asked Casey.

"Yes. I think I am. It's nice to dress up and come out somewhere where no one sees my scars. People aren't fussing over me, and some guy near the bar slipped me his telephone number."

Derek forced himself to look amused.

"I might give it to Bea." Casey said, jokingly. "If Jazz doesn't get his act together."

"Not interested then? In dating your new friend at the bar?" Derek was genuinely curious.

Casey looked him in the eye. "Seriously? Do you want me to be interested in dating?"

"No." Derek was blunt.

"Protective step-brother routine?" Casey asked sarcastically.

Derek heard pain in her voice and realised on one level, at least, he needed to be truly honest with Casey. He raised a finger to stroke her cheek and then leaned to her ear.

"Never. Not when we were young, not six years ago, and definitely not now…my love." The last two words were said so quietly, Casey almost missed them. Almost.

Derek rested the side of his head against Casey's. "Let's have fun tonight with our friends," He whispered. "Let's plan our move to the apartment, let's take each day as it comes. Because one day soon, it's all going to go to shit and I want a few good memories before I lose it all."

Casey pulled back and looked at him intently and with concern. "Lose it all?"

"Lose you."

She leaned her forehead against his and closed her eyes.

"Not going to happen," She murmured. "…my love."

Derek chuckled sadly. "Can I have that in writing please, Case?"

Bea and Jazz returned to the seats as the lights came down. They were giggling and looking very pleased with themselves. Derek might have thought something had clicked between them, but there appeared to be some smirking going on near the band too. Mark gave them the thumbs up and nodded to Stuart. Derek started to get an uneasy feeling.

The spotlight fell on Stuart in the centre of the dancefloor, and Casey realised her friend was planning to be the MC for the evening. He looked smart and sophisticated, the perfect partner for Mark, handsome in a different way, who was now standing with the band, waiting for Stuart to start speaking.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, Good evening and welcome to the Blues Train. Tonight, is music night…well, let's face it, every night here is music night!" There was a ripple of laughter and Stuart began to walk slowly around the dance floor. "Tonight, however, is Open Mike night. A chance for all you amateurs out there to stand up and sing with a live band. Thank you to tonight's singers who've already signed up and given the band their music. We have a great selection of songs, some old and new faces, and of course, for the second half of the evening, the second set, the band will be joined by our resident songstress, Mimi!" There was a cheer. "For those of you just watching, please support the singers. It takes so much to get up on stage and sing." He paused. "Any heckling and I'll sign you up to sing Celine…every night for the next month…" Cue, more laughter.

"Anyway, I don't intend to spend all evening talking, but I do just want to introduce our first singer properly. Most of you won't know that several years ago I lost someone very special in an accident. It broke my heart and I miss them every day. But there was another friend of mine in the car at the time, someone who was special to us both and who barely survived. After a long recovery, she's here today, and I'm led to believe, still has the voice of an angel. She's going to hate me for this because I'm springing it on her. Casey…come sing for us, beautiful."

Casey's eyes widened in horror. She looked at Derek. He didn't look impressed.

"Nothing to do with me." He hissed.

And then she looked at Bea and Jazz who were smiling broadly.

"You can do it, Casey. I heard you the other day." Bea told her.

"Go on, girl. Knock the rust off those pipes." Jazz told Casey.

Derek made to stand up, an angry look on his face as Stuart walked towards their table. Casey put her hand on his knee to stop him.

"She can do this." Stuart reassured him. He turned to Casey. "You can do this."

"But," Casey started.

Across the dancefloor, Mark began the introduction to a song Casey knew. The song Bea had heard her singing the other day.

"Please." Stuart asked, holding out his hand.

Casey threw Derek a resigned look and stood up. He squeezed her hand as she slipped out from behind the table and then Stuart led her to the stage and the bar stool positioned next to the piano. The band who had been busking the intro, began to play properly, across the other side of the room, Bea picked up her phone and switched on the camera.

Casey stepped away from the chair and walked towards Stuart as she sang. She had a smile on her face.

" _Everybody loves the things you do_

 _From the way you talk_

 _To the way you move"_

She mimicked Stuart walking (the crowd giggled) and then she swept the room with her hand.

" _Everybody here is watching you"_

She pointed at him.

" _Cause, you feel like home_

 _You're like a dream come true."_

Stuart laughed, and Casey left him to walk the rest of the room.

"Wow!" Jazz murmured as Casey sang. "She's not Adele, but she's not bad at all."

Derek ignored him. He could hear only Casey, see only Casey, and across the room, Casey was aware of only Derek.

Since the song was about everybody from your past, she pointed to random people in the audience as she sang, but it was as the song was drawing to a close that she returned to Derek.

 _"It's hard to win me back_

 _Everything just takes me back_

 _To when you were there_

 _To when you were there_

 _And a part of me keeps holding on_

 _Just in case it hasn't gone_

 _I guess I still care_

 _Do you still care?"_

The song continued until Casey took a bow amongst the cheers and clapping of the audience who were enthusiastically appreciative, but oblivious to the under-current of emotion. Stuart took the microphone from her and called up the next singer. Casey walked back to the table and Derek. Without a word, she slipped into the seat beside him as the next song began. Derek took a sip of his drink.

"How was it?" She asked.

Derek shrugged. "Perfect. Everybody here was watching you. You feel like home. You're a dream come true." He quoted flippantly.

Their eyes met, and Casey laughed. Derek grinned.

"You're amazing. You know that?"

Casey leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips. "You're pretty special too."

The four of them ate their food, listened to the performers, chatted like the good friends they were. Or at least some of them. After a while it became clear the couple who had teamed up to make Casey sing were having issues.

Jazz took a sip of his wine. "You think I'm all mouth and no trousers?" He asked. Bea looked at him blankly. Jazz looked surprised. "You've never heard the expression before?"

Casey gave Jazz a look and leaned towards Bea. "It means all talk and …" She held up her hand and wiggled her pinkie finger. Bea snorted into her drink and nodded vigorously.

"Yes!" She spluttered. Jazz pulled a face.

"I'm offended." He said dramatically and then grinned. "But more than happy to prove you wrong, Bea."

Derek exchanged a look with Casey. "I bet you are." He commented. "However, I agree. You're very good at telling us about your skills, less keen to demonstrate them. I don't mean your…prowess. I mean your other skills."

"Like what?" Jazz looked confused.

"Well…I don't see you getting up on stage and singing like Casey did. Mr 'I got thrown out of the church choir for corrupting the female element.'"

Bea snorted.

"I think you should put your money where your mouth is."

Jazz sipped his beer. "You want me to sing?" He sounded very surprised.

Derek grinned. "Um…yes!" He announced.

For a second Jazz looked like he was about to refuse, then Stuart walked towards him.

"Jazz. You're up next. Mark wants me to tell you he only has one arrangement. Is Benson, okay?"

The other three members stared at Jazz as he threw Derek a grin, stood up and nodded at Stuart.

"The Benson version will be fine." He answered with a wink at Bea.

As soon as the previous singer finished, the band began an extended intro to give Jazz time to get into position. Stuart was there beside Casey, waiting for her to hear the first notes.

"Oh." She said in a heart-stopping way, for Derek at least.

"Remember this one?" Stuart asked. "You and Jessie…"

Casey smiled sadly. "It was our demonstration piece. When we ran our workshops." She explained to Derek.

"Think you could dance it with me, Miss MacDonald?" Stuart asked, formally… hopefully. "A memorial to Jessie?"

"I don't know." Casey hesitated. Only a week ago she'd used a stick on the rare occasions she left the house and had spent all day with a panic alarm around her neck in case she fell. Now here was Stuart asking her to get up and dance something she had last danced five years ago.

But things had changed. Casey's confidence had returned, and she had proven to herself and those around her that she had made progress. She was back on her feet, and now she was contemplating dancing again – and that she had never thought possible. Derek held his breath, conscious that while he didn't want her to fail, he didn't want to hold her back. Was she really as recovered as she appeared? And what about her mental recovery? And where did that leave them? He felt reassured by the kiss from earlier, but…

"Please? I'll go easy on you." Stuart promised. "It's just a slow foxtrot."

Casey thought for a second. "Let's give it a go." She decided. "But I warn you, if you thought my voice was rusty, you should see my dancing!"

"You'll be fine!" Stuart said leading Casey onto the dancefloor.

The lights dimmed, and it was a different Jazz who stood before them with the microphone. The hard-nosed cop had disappeared and in his place was a smooth and sophisticated man who suited his nickname. As soon as he began to sing, everyone in the room knew why he was known as "Jazz".

"You don't know what love is

Until you've learned the meaning of the blues

Until you've loved a love you had to lose

You don't know what love is."

Bea was watching Jazz, transfixed. His voice bewitched her and though he played the room, his eyes always came back to her. Suddenly, she realised how much of the Jason she had seen before was an act. There were hidden depths to Derek's partner and Bea wondered why he kept them hidden. Now she wanted to know more.

Oblivious to the affect his partner was having on Bea, Derek filmed Stuart sweeping Casey around the dancefloor, dipping and swaying to a once well-rehearsed foxtrot routine that neither of them had danced or even seen in five years. He watched Casey, more relaxed than he'd ever seen her, as she regained a part of herself, a part she thought she had lost for ever. In the low light, her eyes sparkled brightly.

Her dancing was, to his eyes at least, faultless. This woman who, so recently, was frightened to walk around the house. He wondered how much time they had lost, going so slow in her recovery. Was he as guilty of holding Casey back as Nora? Should he have pushed her to move out sooner?

But that would mean he lost her sooner, because the more of herself Casey recovered, the more likely she would remember.

Yet Derek couldn't regret her recovery, and he knew he would happily pay the cost of losing Casey for knowing that she was healthy again.

Even if she wasn't his.

The song ended, the dance ended, and the principals returned to their seats.

For a moment there was silence among the general applause.

Casey beamed happily at Derek and then giggled as Bea dragged her off to the bathroom. Eager to talk, no doubt, about Jazz's singing.

Stuart sat down next to Derek.

'Whatever it is you need to say to that girl, Derek…she's ready for it."

* * *

Mimi was a tall girl with red hair and a pale complexion. She was heavily made-up with bright red lips and her hair was tightly controlled in a fifties style. She arrived early for her set, and Stuart brought her over to Derek's party as soon as she walked through the door.

"Mimi, this is Detective Sergeants Venturi and Ransome and their friend, Bea. Do you remember Casey?"

Mimi grinned at Derek and the other, then nodded and smiled warmly at Casey. "Of course, Casey! It's lovely to see you again."

Casey smiled back, but she felt uneasy. Her memory of the woman before her was patchy at best. "Hi Mimi, how are you?"

They made room for Mimi who carried on talking as she sat down.

"I should be asking you that. I wasn't around when you had your accident, but I heard all about it. By all accounts, you are lucky to be here now. Are you fully recovered?"

Casey shrugged. "Not fully, but…mostly. Actually, a lot better than I realised. I managed to dance this evening. But my memory is bad, so please don't be offended if I've forgotten something important about you."

"It's okay. Stuart explained. That's why I suggested I should talk to you all. I know after I left the company, you and Sophie became really good friends, but I guess you don't remember a great deal about that time?"

Casey shook her head. "Very little." She squeezed Derek's hand, unseen and he rubbed a thumb on the back of her hand.

"Well Mimi will help with that." Stuart concluded. He looked over his shoulder at the act on the stage and frowned. "I'll leave you guys to talk freely."

Mimi turned her attention to the two men in front of her.

"You're struggling to find information on Sophie." It was a statement, not a question. "I can't say I'm surprised. She was a very private person."

"Anything you could tell us would be helpful."

Mimi nodded. "She was a lovely kid. I was really upset when I heard about the accident. And now Stuart is telling me that she actually didn't die then, but she was murdered recently." The singer shook her head sadly. "Such a waste." She was quiet for a moment. "So, what can I tell you? She was quite a bit younger than me. I guess I felt sorry for her when she first arrived. She'd been living in a convent for a year or so. Not as a nun you understand, more like a waif and stray. Anyway, we sort of clicked. When I was looking for a roommate, she was a good fit. She was more tolerant than others I'd met before."

"But you fell out?" Derek prompted. "About the rent."

Mimi laughed. "Is that what Stuart told you? No. It wasn't that." She paused. "Sophie was lovely. We got on really well and for about two years it worked with us living together. We trusted each other, supported each other, and we spent a lot of time together. She didn't have a family, but I guess you know that by now."

"Not really, just that her parents were dead." Jazz noted.

"Yes. It was why she ended up in the convent, a sort of childish attempt to repay the nuns' kindness when her mother died. Her father was gone years before and Sophie was an only child. When we connected, she treated me like an older sister, and since mine is a complete bitch, I was happy to adopt a new one."

"What went wrong?" Bea asked.

"What always goes wrong? A man."

Derek frowned. "A man?"

"Yeah. We had rules about our apartment. A rota system for spending time in the apartment with the guys we were dating. You know, give each other your own space. For two years, it worked without an issue. Then she met _him_."

"Go on."

"It was about six years ago. We were both working for Jessie's dance company and things were going well." She glanced at Casey. "You'd joined us for a few weeks as you'd just finished your bar exam."

"That I remember." Casey told her. "I don't remember you falling out."

Mimi pulled a face. "We weren't dramatic about it." She told Casey. "We went to one of those charity events Jessie was always organising. You know, to promote the dance group whilst supporting a good cause." She turned her head back to Derek and Jazz. "I don't know if you realise, but Stuart comes from money. He has quite a privileged background. Private school, friends in high places and all that…but he is a good soul and Jessie brought it out of him. After he met Jessie, he started to do something with his money and his friends. He encouraged the friends to throw charity events to support underprivileged children. He was particularly fond of the performing arts charities – and, of course, dancing. Anyway, we were encouraged to attend these events, you know…add a bit of glamour. Remember, Casey?"

Casey nodded. "I remember a couple. Were they regular?"

Mimi shrugged. "Probably four or five a year, but you weren't a permanent squad member at the time, so you may not have attended as many. They were usually evening events, but every now and then there was a garden party."

Derek looked thoughtful and reached into his pocket, producing the grainy picture.

"Like this?" He asked, pushing the photograph towards Mimi. She picked it up.

"Wow…yeah. Exactly like that." She fingered the picture. "How strange that you have a picture of that particular event."

"'That particular event'?" Casey queried. Mimi nodded.

"That was the event when Sophie met Trent." She saw the name meant nothing to her audience. "Trent Sutton?" She told them. "As in…"

Jazz's eyes widened. "Councillor Sutton? The youngest councillor in modern times?"

Mimi smiled. "Not just a pretty face, are you?" Jazz winked at her. Bea frowned.

In the meantime, Casey and Derek were processing what Mimi had told them. Casey frowned and sat forward.

"Sophie dated Councillor Sutton?" She asked.

Mimi shook her head. "Sophie dated Trent Sutton. At the time he was only just beginning his political career. He'd just come back from Harvard to join his father's property development business, but the signs that he was aiming high were already there." She took a drink of water. "He was a good-looking guy. She was an attractive girl. He had a way of talking that girls from convent school liked." Mimi put the picture down on the table and pointed at it. "This was the party where they met." She squinted at the photo. "If you look closely, you can see him."

The others leaned their heads over the table to look, but Derek sat back and met Mimi's gaze.

"Ok. So, they dated. What went wrong?"

Mimi shrugged. "That's just it. I don't know that anything went wrong." She explained. "I didn't hang around to find out." Derek looked puzzled. Mimi continued.

"Trent was all looks and politics. I like people who were a little less superficial. Sophie lapped it up and I guess that's where the rot set in as far as our friendship went. I didn't like him from the start and then when he started turning up on days when I was supposed to have the apartment for entertaining…well it made things a bit…tense. Sophie was besotted. She couldn't see the manipulation that was going on. He forced me to leave the apartment a couple of times because he wanted to see Sophie and I was in his way. Yet, mild-mannered Sophie wouldn't hear anything bad against him."

"When did it end?"

"As far as I know, it didn't. Not until the car accident. But as I said, I wasn't around by that stage."

"And the baby?" Casey asked. Mimi frowned.

"Baby?"

"Sophie was pregnant at the time of the car accident and it appears she carried the baby to term." Casey explained.

Mimi blew out a long breath in a controlled way. "Wow! That I did not know. How pregnant was she? At the time of the crash, I mean."

"Four months." Derek answered quickly.

Casey frowned. "No, she wasn't. She was further along than that. Five months, maybe six. I remember her scan pictures."

Derek stared at Casey. Casey stared at Derek. The latter looked pale and shaky again.

"I remember her scan pictures! Derek, I remember! She was having a girl! We bought her a little dancer's outfit – you know…for an infant. Most people don't get told the sex of their baby until their 20-week scan!"

"Ok!" Jazz exclaimed. "Now we are getting somewhere. It will be easier to track down the birth if we know the sex of the baby."

Derek shook his head. "I'm not holding out any hopes on that front. I'm fairly sure she will have given birth at the convent."

"But she will still have had to register the birth."

Derek pulled a face. "I don't think it will be that easy." He turned to Casey. "Do you remember anything else?" He asked her cautiously and held his breath.

Casey shook her head. "But I remember something. That has to be good news…doesn't it?"

Derek forced a smile onto his face. "Sure. It's good." He squeezed her to him.

Jazz turned back to Mimi. "Anything else?"

Mimi looked thoughtful. "Like I said, I had very little to do with them and I moved out pretty quickly." She pulled a face. "Moved in with my own mistake." She commented, wryly. "Of course, I didn't get pregnant."

Bea had her lawyer head on. "And you're sure the baby was Sutton's?" She prompted. Mimi shrugged.

"I wasn't there for the act or the positive pregnancy test, but, as far as I know Sophie was pretty smitten with Trent. I can't see her moving on to someone else that quickly afterwards. So…yeah. On balance, I'm fairly sure the baby was his." She snorted. "I bet that went down like a lead balloon with the rest of the Suttons."

Derek looked up. "What do you mean?"

Mimi smiled. "Trent Sutton came from an old family. A family who, while they thought it was fine for their young men to sew wild oats, didn't take too kindly to the "sewing" taking place with the wrong type of girl, if it was likely to draw attention to the family. Sophie was definitely not the right type of girl. And if the oats fell on fertile ground…Old mother Sutton would have had something to say about it."

Mimi shivered and glanced over her shoulder at the band. "I'm going to need to go in a second." She warned them.

"An old family…and a big one. Lots of brothers, sisters and cousins – distant and close. In fact, if you want to know anything more about Sophie, I'd talk to Old Ma Sutton. You can bet your life she had Sophie investigated by someone, some time."


	13. Chapter Thirteen- Secrets Unravelled

**Chapter Thirteen – Secrets Unravelled**

 _ **AN: Remember those days when I used to be able to write a chapter a day? That was back before I worked in a school. Back then, I also didn't have two children sitting major school exams. So, sorry for the massive delay. It frustrates me as much as – maybe more than – you.**_

* * *

 **Later that night**

In the office, Agatha Strong sipped at her instant coffee and winced at the taste.

"I've done a brief overview of the information you gave me, from Mimi." She told Derek down the phone line.

"Cool. And?" He closed the door to his bedroom so as to not wake the rest of the house.

Agatha nodded to herself. "Unlikely as it seems, the dates fit. Six years ago, Trent Sutton was in the right place at the right time, and the background info checks out too: Ambitious young lawyer, good-looking, old money; Political ambitions, pushy mother, suddenly got the philanthropy bug about eight years ago – on paper at least. I can't find anything to directly link him to Stuart, it's not like they were in high school together. But they knew of each other."

"Prep school, Kindergarten?"

"No but their parents played tennis together. I suspect it's something as simple as that."

"Me too. So, Trent was one of the acquaintances Stuart persuaded to throw charity events with Jessie's dancing group at the centre for entertainment purposes. Trent meets Sophie."

"And the rest is history. I think we have enough to speak to him, but it's late tonight. I would not be popular if I called Councillor Sutton at 1 am."

Derek chuckled. "Nope and you'd be on your own. Look, we all need a good night's sleep. Go home, get some rest. Jazz and I will be in mid-morning. See if you can get hold of Councillor Sutton first thing. Maybe we can get to see him tomorrow sometime. I'll also go back and have a chat with Stuart. I didn't get chance to raise Trent Sutton with him tonight."

"Will do. Night, Sergeant."

"Night." Derek hung up and looked thoughtfully at his phone.

"Was that Agatha?" Casey asked from the doorway. He hadn't even noticed her open the door or come in. Derek nodded and watch her cross the floor in her nightshirt. She was graceful, beautiful, flawless…but then to him, she always had been.

"Looks like Mimi could be telling the truth." He told her. "Dates and times match."

"But…"

Derek smiled wearily at her. "But it's the age-old problem."

Casey walked forward and perched on the end of his bed. "How to get someone in power to open up about their personal life." Derek nodded and sat back against his pillows.

"Especially, if their personal life included attempted murder and then murder. The trouble is, I don't know enough about the guy to make a judgement. I've had other things on my mind for the past six years, other than politics."

"Me, you mean." Casey guessed, fixing him with her perfect, blue eyes.

"Ego, much." Derek grinned at her.

Casey swung her legs up onto the bed and sat facing him. The movement and position felt natural, because as a teenager it was one of her most common study positions, yet if she had stopped to think about it, Casey would probably have decided it wasn't possible for someone with a metal hip. This was the difference between the Casey of this week and the Casey of last; the reason why she was making such substantial progress. She had stopped thinking, stopped worrying and learned to just act.

It was a fundamental shift, not just in her progress, but also in her character.

Derek was too tired to notice the specifics of why Casey's positioning was familiar or to identify the character shift, but subconsciously it held parallels to a time more than five years ago when she had also made a leap of faith. He gazed at her for a long moment, transported back to their time at college, and the many nights when they had talked – and studied - in similar circumstances. He remembered too, the nights later on when he had crossed the distance between them and…

"Hey, Beautiful. You did great tonight. But…Bed!" He let common sense break his train of thought, and he dropped his hand from where it had migrated to hers.

Casey looked up suddenly as if she had forgotten he was there, lost too in a distant memory. Derek held out his hand again to help her off the bed. She blushed and took the hand which helped her to stand up. He pulled her closer to him.

"Demanding, Derek…? Do I need to worry about my virtue?" She quipped as they stood beside his bed, both of them very aware how close they were.

Derek snorted and placed his hands on her hips. "You think I'd suggest _that_ under our parents' roof?" his voice was low, private, even.

"No." She gazed at him thoughtfully. "What about when we're in our own apartment?"

Derek was silent for a moment, but then he raised his eyes to hers. Soft light, late night and a bubbling tension crying out for release.

"That would be a discussion for a later date." He told her. Casey smiled and there was a twinkle in her eyes that was unmistakable.

"Discussion?" She prompted, linking her fingers with his. "That would imply there were two points of view."

"Maybe there are." He suggested, but Casey could see the fun in his eyes, even as they both mentally withdrew their challenge. He led her by the hand back out into the corridor.

"Really?"

Derek paused by Casey's door and they grinned at each other. Casey was the grown up this time.

"I think it's late, we're still in our parents' home and you are right…this is something for another night." She commented, still with a warm smile on her lips. "But I suspect Mom is going to decide I need a lie-in, so she won't disturb me in the morning, and if we lock our bedroom doors, she won't know where you are sleeping. I haven't seen you for the past two nights. Chaste and uneventful or not, stay with me."

"I'll think about it while I'm brushing my teeth." Derek teased and turned to walk to his own room.

Later, as they lay in bed, 'chaste and uneventful', Casey stroked Derek's arms where they wound around her waist.

"I'm not going to see much of you for the next few days, am I?"

"Probably not. Now that we have some solid leads. I'll text you regularly though." Derek nuzzled the back of her neck. "When this is over, Casey. We need to talk."

Casey sighed and turned in his arms. "I know. It's just…I love where we are. What I've become…what we've become."

"You think I don't?"

"I didn't say that. But I'm sure you never moved this slowly with other girls - when we were young."

Derek sighed and rested his forehead against hers. "I didn't know what it felt like to lose someone you care about."

"I'm still here." Casey whispered.

Derek tightened his hold on her. "Now. But for so long you weren't. I sat in the corner of your hospital room and you were a complete stranger."

"I was in a coma!"

"And I was in a parallel universe. Or that's how it felt. I was in the world our parents had carefully crafted. Despite the progress between us over the years, the friendship we've developed, in their world I was – I still am - the step-brother." He paused. "Remember that…later."

* * *

The house was deserted when Casey emerged from her room the next morning. Derek had clearly left her bed and gone to work at some point, but she had slept through. George, Nora and Robbie had also gone on with their routine. It left the kitchen free for her breakfast and Casey pottered happily about adding fruit to cereal and making a cup of decaffeinated tea. She smiled to herself at the difference between this day and last week, how the sticks she used for balance were relegated to the hall cupboard and the contract with the personal alarm company had been ripped up. Then the house phone rang.

"Hi Casey, it's Stella Gibbons, Dr Wentworth's secretary."

Casey put her cup of tea down quickly and grabbed for her cell phone and its calendar, even as she spoke on the landline.

"Oh, hi Stella! Did you have any luck?" She asked excitedly. Dr Wentworth was one of the consultants who were monitoring her progress since she left hospital. Casey's improvement over the past week had left her wanting more independence. She wanted her driving permit back, but the authorities needed written confirmation from Casey's specialist. That meant Casey had to go and see the consultant. He was a busy man, but Stella had promised to try and find Casey an appointment as soon as possible.

The other side of Toronto, the secretary smiled at her enthusiasm.

"Well, I don't know if this will help, but one of this afternoon's patients has just cancelled. The appointment is with our new member of the team, but Dr Wentworth is happy for him to take a look at you and make a decision."

Casey glanced at her calendar. "What time?"

"Straight after lunch. 1.30pm."

"I'll be there."

"Looking forward to catching up." The secretary replied in a genuine tone.

* * *

Councillor Sutton's office was a stylish mix of expensive modern furniture in a classic 1960's setting. To reach it, Derek and Jazz had to skirt the main council chambers, and though both of them had had cause to visit the City Hall building before, this was the furthest into its depths they had been.

They were there by appointment. Agatha had managed to reach the councillor's secretary early in the working day and he had agreed for Derek and Jazz to see them at 11am.

"Detective Sergeant Derek Venturi and Detective Sergeant Jason Ransome." Jazz made the introductions, though they all shook hands. Derek's eyes ran over the two figures before him. The Councillor's Press Secretary, a short, rotund man in a suit straining at the seams, and the Councillor himself, who was tall, athletic looking and blond. Derek knew the guy was ten years his senior, but he didn't look it, and if he was indeed Sophie's secret lover, Derek could tell what had drawn them to each other – and it wasn't the plight of impoverished youngsters in the Toronto area.

Or at least, not on Trent Sutton's part. Trent was attractive even now, more than six years since the couple first met. And back then, Sophie had been younger, but no less beautiful.

No, their attraction had been all down to genetics.

"Please…have a seat." Trent Sutton indicated the space on the sofa across from him, an ill-disguised attempt to make this interview informal, Jazz decided. It was early enough in the investigation that Jazz was happy to humour him.

"Thank you for seeing us." Jazz continued to lead the interview. "I appreciate it may seem like a strange request to ask of a sitting councillor."

Derek ignored the placatory tone. He knew Jazz, he knew his colleague was just beginning. Instead he watched the Press Secretary, who had retired to a corner to perch in anticipation of needing to intervene. Derek could tell the man wasn't happy. He hadn't taken a seat, just leaned against a side cabinet, watching, listening.

"Anything for our city's finest." Sutton wasn't above being placatory too.

Jazz nodded in acknowledgement. "We are looking into the circumstances of a case with its origins centred several years ago and it appears you may have known a couple of the principals."

"Whatever I can do to help."

"I believe you know Stuart Lewis?" It was framed as a question but left no room for doubt. Councillor Sutton was thoughtful.

"You mean Alderman Lewis' nephew?" Sutton asked. Jazz nodded. "Yes. My parents and his belonged to the same lawn tennis club. For a while we had tennis lessons at similar times. Stuart is a little younger than myself, however, so I can't really say that we were friends. More sort of, nod at each other in passing."

"Understood." Jazz wrote in his notepad briefly. "Would you consider yourself a philanthropic man, Councillor?"

"Meaning?"

"Do you give regularly to charity?"

Sutton shrugged. "Of course. I sit on the board of several charities and my family's foundation includes several projects around the city."

"When did your charitable endeavours begin? Ten years ago? Five years?"

Thoughtfully, Sutton frowned. "Like I said, my family has been hands-on for a very long time, but I began to be involved about…oh, nearly seven years ago."

"Your first charity was a performing arts project, I believe. About seven years ago."

"That sounds about right." The fog cleared. "Oh…yes, now I see why you are asking about Stuart. Yes, you are correct. Stuart came to me and a group of others with an idea for an arts project. We worked on it together for a while. It would have been about seven years ago."

Derek sat forward. "This project involved fundraising events hosted by yourself and featuring the dance company Mr Lewis had become involved in?"

"Yes. Stuart had…was…involved with a man – a dancer – from the wrong side of the tracks who had dragged himself up and made a success of his life and his profession."

"That would be Jessie."

Sutton nodded. "Yes, that would be his name. I never knew his surname. Stuart liked what Jessie was doing for the young people in Toronto and wanted to help. He approached me and several other people in a wider circle and we all contributed." He shrugged. "You know how it is, people give more if they get something out of it, so we settled on model of high-class fundraisers. It was very successful for a while."

"And some of Jessie dance group attended?"

"On occasion. It doesn't really work if the room is full of rich old men with fat bank accounts. The dance company added glamour."

"And young females."

"Amongst others. Not all the old men were interested in the young girls."

Derek sat back. "And you? Who were you interested in?"

"I'm sorry, I don't follow."

Derek scratched at his neck. "Who did you meet at the parties?" There was an emphasis on the word "meet".

Trent Sutton frowned. "No one and I resent the implication." He turned slightly towards Jazz, as though indicating he preferred to be quizzed by anyone but Derek. The Press Secretary shifted his weight on his feet as if readying to pounce.

Jazz opened his notebook with a glance at Derek. It was just a glance to check they were both on the same page. "No implication, just clearing up some facts. We're going through the hearsay and rumour. You definitely attended these parties…because you were one of the organisers, but you don't recall _connecting_ with anyone at these parties?"

"Definitely not. I was engaged…off the market." Sutton explained. Derek raised an eyebrow.

"Rumours about you and one of the dancers were just unfounded gossip?"

"Exactly."

Jazz was thoughtful. "Did your fiancée attend any of these events?"

Sutton shook his head. "Unfortunately, not – they wouldn't have seemed so tedious if she had. No, Morag was abroad for much of that time period. She studied art history at my alma mater and then took a year working for an auction house with offices in Paris."

Derek nodded. "The trials of young love when you are thousands of miles apart." He stood up and walked to the office window.

The councillor shrugged, watching Derek's progress. "We managed. I went out to Paris a few times, she came back home to me." He frowned. "What does this have to do with your case?"

Jazz ignored the question. "I guess money wasn't an object when it came to funding your flights to France, if you were also funding the charity events."

Sutton was forced to ping pong his head between the two men. He looked irritated and his Press Secretary stood up straight and made to open his mouth. Sutton held up a forestalling hand.

"The flights were funded by my fiancée's family. The money I committed to the charity events was from our family foundation, and although I was authorised to allocate it to whatever good cause I liked, none of it was for my own personal use."

"And now?" Derek pushed.

"I'm sorry?"

"And now, where does your funding for personal use come from?"

"Is that really any of your business?"

"Are you refusing to answer?" Jazz asked.

Sutton sighed. "If you must know, I came into a small trust fund on my marriage to Morag, as did she. Our families had the same firm of accountants advising them."

"Really? How interesting!"

"Not really. Our fathers had some business dealings in common."

"Do you have any children, Councillor Sutton?" Derek turned to ask.

"Yes. I have three. Two boys and a daughter. The eldest boy is four and my other children are twins aged two."

"Thank you. You've been very open with us in your answers and we do appreciate it." Jazz noted politely. Sutton nodded in acknowledgement.

"Now that we've agreed I've cooperated sufficiently, could you please tell me what this is about?"

Derek walked back to the sofas, reached inside his jacket pocket and produced a photograph of Sophie. It was a different photograph than he had used previously when questioning witnesses. This photograph had been given to them by the convent, it was approximately five years old like the other photograph, but- unlike the grainy photo of the charity event, it was properly focussed.

"Can I ask if you recognise this young woman?" He asked simply.

Sutton took the photograph and appeared to study it carefully, no doubt aware that the eyes of both officers were completely focussed on him.

"She's pretty." He said quietly and then handed the photograph back. "But no. I don't recognise her."

"Interesting." Derek commented.

"In what way?"

Derek slipped the photograph of the charity event across to him. "She attended this charity event – one of your charity events – approximately six years ago."

Sutton laughed in a way that was more of a snort. "And you expect me to remember her?"

"You said it yourself. She's pretty."

"And I've already told you, I was engaged back then. Happily." Sutton rubbed his hands through his hair. "Just out of interest, what has she done?"

Jazz took up the reins. "Apparently she died in a car accident five years ago."

Sutton showed no signs of shock. "How sad. Her family must have been devastated, but as I said, I never met her."

"You're sure about that?" Jazz pushed. "Not back then…" He paused. "Not last week?"

"Last week?! I thought you said she died five years ago?" Sutton looked confused.

"I did, didn't I?" Jazz smiled. "I also said 'apparently'."

Derek pulled the post mortem photo from his wallet. "You see there is some confusion, since Sophie Gardine was found dead in the car crash five years ago…and then again, last week, here in Toronto." He pushed the photo across the table towards the councillor. "She'd been murdered."

Councillor Sutton's eyes widened, and he swallowed softly before pulling himself together.

"I'll tell you now, Sergeant. I can't remember the Toronto charity events I attended last month, let alone who I spoke to or where they were held. How you expect me to remember a charity event in Hamilton, more than six years ago?! And I definitely don't remember meeting this girl, back then or more recently."

The Press Secretary had remained silent throughout the questions, though occasionally he had made a movement to interrupt but been forestalled by a sign from his employer. Now, however, Sutton made no objection when the Press Secretary stepped forward.

"I think it is time for this interview to end. You've already acknowledged the Councillor has answered your questions as completely and as fully as possible." He stated. "Despite some of them being extremely intrusive, and…was the post mortem photograph _really_ necessary?"

Jazz turned to the officious suit. "A young woman lost her life. I cannot ignore the facts of her death and I must interview anyone who may have come into contact with her in connection with the charity. Since there are very few pictures of her in existence, I'm afraid, it is completely necessary to show those we do have to any potential witnesses."

Derek stood up. "After all, somewhere out there is a young child who deserves to know what happened to their mother." He commented in passing.

Sutton stared at Derek. "A child?" The shock was obvious.

Derek nodded. "Sophie Gardine was pregnant at the time of the car accident, but she survived, and it appears, she gave birth. She may not have had any other family, but she was someone's mother."

Councillor Sutton and his Press Secretary exchanged a look.

"Do you want to change your answer?" Jazz asked softly.

Sutton shook his head.

"Then, thank you, for your time." Jazz concluded.

Derek and Jazz left then, choosing to go before they were forced out. Both detectives were quiet until they had left the building and reached their car once again. Jazz climbed into the driving seat and looked across at Derek.

"Interesting." He commented.

"Always a pleasure to speak with our city elders." Derek noted with amusement. "He's a cold fish."

Jazz laughed. "Hell, yes! He didn't even blink when you showed him that first photograph. "Hardly any reaction when I mentioned the car crash either. The murder threw him, though. With the post mortem photograph. Nice touch, by the way."

Derek shrugged. "He irritated me. I didn't like the complacent way he dismissed her death."

"The complacency was only skin deep." Jazz noted. "You rattled him."

"Ha! And some."

"I guess most normal people react to the word 'murder' and the sight of a dead body with some degree of shock." Jazz started the car. "Except…"

Derek smiled broadly. "Except, **we** didn't know the picture was taken in Hamilton. Nice of the good Councillor to share that with us."

* * *

Bea pulled her car into the clinic parking lot, applied the brake and switched off the engine.

"Do you want me to hang around? I could come in with you or just wait outside to take you home?" She suggested to Casey who was sitting in the passenger seat. Casey shook her head.

"I've no idea how long I'm going to be. This is a new consultant, so I guess there will be lots he wants to go over, he'll need to read through my history etc." She grabbed her purse from the footwell of the car. "There are several questions I want to ask as well. Now that I'm feeling stronger. You know, things about the future…long term prognosis and so on."

Bea nodded. "I get that, Casey. But maybe you should have someone with you for this. If you are going to ask those sorts of questions. Just in case they tell you something you aren't prepared to hear."

Casey frowned. "Like what? It's not as though I'm ill. I'm just injured, and I've got so much of my mobility and health back, surely there isn't much that could be a shock for me. Usually when I come to these appointments, I have my mother or Derek with me. It makes talking about… _certain_ things very awkward…embarrassing even."

Bea grinned. "Like…?" She teased. Casey blushed.

"You know…female stuff…and the practicalities of certain…activities."

Casey's friend laughed. "Hun, unless you are planning to swing from the light fittings, I'm pretty sure you are capable of having sex with a metal hip." She tilted her head thoughtfully to one side. "But I am pleased to see your mind is moving in a certain direction. Do I sense that things are hotting up between you and Derek?"

"Bea!" Casey objected. "I start to consider my future sex life and your mind goes straight to Derek. Isn't that a bit of a leap?"

"And…? Your point is? Come on, Casey. Please tell me you are at least considering Derek. You can't keep him waiting for ever. Guys like that, they can be patient, but five years is a long time."

Casey frowned. "I'm fairly sure Derek has not been waiting five years for me."

"What does that mean?"

"Derek has always been very active in his social life." Bea raised an eyebrow at the roundabout way Casey phrased it. "I just can't imagine him abstaining from anything _physical_ for any length of time. There was always _someone…_ Even if you are correct and he feels something for me now… or felt something for me years ago."

"Come on, Casey. He's been right there since your accident. He's still there."

"He's my step-brother, Bea. Where's he supposed to go? Family sticks with family. It's an unwritten rule."

Bea gave her a look. "Clueless!" She commented. "You seriously think he doesn't care about you – in a non-familial way?"

Casey looked away. "I'm sure he's… _fond_ of me, in his own way." She admitted, "But, as you say, five years is a long time. Even if he was the sort of person to do long term commitment, no one is a saint."

"Casey…"

Casey turned back to look at her friend. "Bea, please. I'm trying really hard to be realistic about…my future. Derek has been fantastic – is being fantastic - and yes, we flirt. In a perfect world this spark would mean something…but, it isn't a perfect world."

"You're writing him off." Bea said with distaste.

"No!" Casey groaned. She sighed. "We joke about our relationship. We're affectionate…like best friends…and maybe, just recently, the flirting has been a bit more…but he's made it clear it's not going anywhere right now."

Bea looked taken aback. "Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"Then why are you here? And why are you asking about sex?"

Casey sighed as she looked out of the window. "I'm here because I want my driving permit back, I need my freedom…" She turned back to Bea. "And because…because in the unlikely event the question even comes up, I want to know that I can say 'yes'."

* * *

The young girl was about sixteen, slim and brunette. There was none of the awkwardness of most teenagers as she moved, just the gracefulness of a creature born to dance. In the background, Derek heard the rhythm and melody of a dance track he recognised from his own teenaged years and it was like turning the clock back twelve years. He was, once again, in the Venturi kitchen, watching Casey through the doorway as she rehearsed in the family room.

"She's good." He commented to Stuart quietly. "A bit slow on the middle section, but otherwise almost perfect."

Stuart raised an eyebrow. "Displaying hidden depths, Derek?"

Derek shrugged. "I recognise the routine. Casey wrote it, didn't she?"

Stuart's surprise grew. "Yes. A very long time ago."

"Twelve years ago? For a dance competition." Derek scratched his head. "She won." He coughed. "And now I've displayed far more knowledge of my step-sister than I should ever have…" Stuart laughed.

"Your secret is safe with me. Yes, Casey wrote it. When she joined the company, she let me see some of her choreography. She let me use a couple of the pieces I liked. This is one of my favourites. And it's perfect for this age range and ability. Your step-sister was a very talented girl."

"She still is."

"Yes. Last night was…nothing short of miraculous, when you think of what she's been through."

"Thanks Stuart. You gave her back her self-esteem."

Stuart motioned to the chairs in the corner of the room and they sat down. "It was nothing that you hadn't already encouraged her to achieve."

"Maybe, but I couldn't give her back her dancing. And, though you almost stopped my heart for a moment when you did it in front of the audience, putting her on the spot like that was genius. She had no choice but to get up and try! Bullying seems to work with Casey."

"Bullying?" Stuart objected.

"Potato, pot-ah-to." Derek smirked. "Anywho…Trent Sutton." Derek dropped the name in without warning.

Stuart's face changed. "What about the bastard?" Stuart asked abruptly.

Amused at the reaction, Derek curled an eyebrow and stared at Stuart. The latter sighed through his nose and shifted on his chair.

"Sorry. A bit of an over-reaction, I know. It's just…I don't like people who use good causes and charities for their own gain. At his best he's an opportunist – and a smarmy bugger – and at his worst…"

"At his worst…?"

"His so-called good works tend to be either fronts for the old-boys' network or poor, legitimate causes whose association with Sutton tend to leave them worse off than they were before they met him."

"Including the dance company?"

Stuart nodded. "Yeah. And I guess I only have myself to blame for that. I persuaded him to work with us, to invest in the charity. It worked well for a while, it was mutually beneficial. We gave him publicity and a good name, he gave us money and a wider audience with connections."

"Until…?"

"Until he came to us and offered to put us in touch with a new donor. Which he did, but the new donations came at a cost. As a condition of the gift, we were required to relocate from the building we had been based in, to somewhere else. Cut a very long, bitter story into something shorter, the upshot was the money disappeared, just as we discovered our new home was built with substandard concrete and had to be demolished. The contract they had us sign was designed to tie us into the move, but without any guarantee of the money…which we never saw."

"And he knew that this would happen?"

"That multi-million dollar Toronto development which opened three years ago. His flagship?"

Derek nodded.

"Built on the site of our original studios."

"Ouch."

"And Mr white-smile Teflon came away looking cleaner than clean."

Derek nodded. "You couldn't challenge it?"

"We didn't have the funding for the legal fees. Besides, the other donors and sponsors were all friends of his. Who would fund us if we attacked him in court?" Stuart shook his head. "And I wasn't in the frame of mind. This was all shortly after Jessie died, while I was still trying to sort out his estate."

"Hence why Casey doesn't know about it, and why it passed me by."

"Yeah, you had other things on your plate." Stuart confirmed. He straightened. "Why are you interested in Trent?"

"You didn't speak to Mimi?" Derek queried. "After last night?"

Stuart shook his head. "Nah. It got busy and then we had a couple of drunks causing trouble after you left."

Derek turned his attention to the young dancer again. She was good, but she'd never be Casey. "Mimi tells us that Sophie was involved with someone at the time of her death…" He turned back to Stuart. "Trent Sutton."

Stuart's eyes widened. "Wow. She kept that quiet. It's not that I was nosey or anything, but I tried to keep an eye on my dancers."

"He was up and coming…and engaged. I doubt he encouraged her to share."

"Sounds about right." Then Stuart jerked his head abruptly towards Derek. "Sutton was her baby daddy?!"

"You tell me?"

"How the fuck should I know?"

Derek shrugged. "Was there anyone else on the scene at the time?"

Stuart was thoughtful for a moment. "No." He concluded. "And, I think I can be certain about that. Sophie may have been quiet about Sutton, but I can't see her hiding multiple lovers. You know, looking back on it, this makes sense. Mimi and Sophie were close, but those six months before Sophie's…accident, it all changed. And when I found out that Sophie was pregnant, I sort of expected Mimi to step up and take on the best friend role. It was a little surprising when Casey seemed to be her _confidante_."

"When was that?"

"Well, I found out about the baby at about the six-week mark. Sophie started throwing up regularly. I wanted to turn to Mimi for help, but she'd arranged with Jessie to take a leave of absence to tour with some company on the west coast. Anyway, Sophie told me not to worry, she was fine. She didn't look fine, but I stopped noticing the morning sickness and I think that was because it eased. Mimi returned a month later, but they didn't resume their friendship, the next thing I know, Sophie is hanging around with Casey. Casey was going with her to hospital appointments, shopping trips etc."

"When was this?"

"About the twelve-week mark."

"How long before the accident?"

"Eight-twelve weeks."

Derek closed his eyes. "Sophie was 24 weeks…"

"I guess."

Derek looked thoughtful. "Did she speak to you again? Ask about time off for a scan etc?"

Stuart snorted. "We aren't slave-drivers, Derek. She didn't need to take time off. She didn't _ask_ to go to a scan, but I know she went for one. She came back full of joy about the pictures." Stuart's eyes widened. "Oh my god! I remember…she was expecting a girl."

Derek smiled. "Great! That's a real help, Stuart. It helps us narrow down the baby's birth. We find the baby, we can prove who the baby's father is."

"I wish I'd paid more attention, asked more questions. It's just…you know, it was a high-pressure environment."

"I know, honestly, I remember."

"So, did you talk to Sutton? About the baby?" Stuart asked.

Derek nodded. "I dropped it in to conversation. It was a shock to him…or at least the fact that she'd given birth was a shock. Otherwise, he didn't flinch when we talked about her death.

"Does that take him off your suspect list or move him higher up?

"That really is the question, isn't it?"

* * *

They chatted for a while longer, Stuart giving Derek as much information as he could about Trent Sutton, but as both men had already stated, they were hardly friends. Derek felt upbeat on the way back to the office, however, progress was slow, but it was happening. Considering what they had started with, they had come a long way.

The mood was similarly upbeat in the office after lunch. The daily briefing shared lots of new information amongst the team, and the junior members found they had several new lines of enquiry. Agatha took herself off the general research and asked to own the search for Sophie's baby. Derek readily agreed.

"Good idea. You've got the rare blood group, the baby's gender and photos of Sophie. It will take a while, no doubt, but it will be worth it. Keep in touch with the rest of the team, though, in case the information they turn up could help you narrow the search."

It was now late afternoon and the previous night's activities in the club were starting to catch up with them. Someone changed the coffee in the machine to a turbo-charged bean and, soon, Derek and Jazz - somewhat wired – began looking for other members of Jessie's dance company and more evidence of the relationship between Sophie and Trent.

It was all going so well…

…and then George phoned.

"Hi Dad!" A slightly jittery Derek answered his cell.

"Derek, is Casey with you?" Derek's father cut straight to the chase.

Derek frowned. "No, I'm in the office. She'll be out with Bea or something."

George sighed down the phone. "Unfortunately, not. Bea's here. We're in the office. Nora just called asking when Casey was going to be home, but Casey hasn't been here all afternoon."

"Ok…have you tried her cell?"

"It's ringing out."

"Did you ping it?"

"Out of range. Could she be at your apartment?" George asked, hopefully.

Derek looked up at the clock. "Possibly, but it's good cell coverage there. She'd answer or you'd be able to ping her. She's probably just gone shopping or something. Tell Nora not to fuss."

"Nora fusses for a reason, Derek. She's her mother."

"I know, I know. Sorry, I didn't mean it like that. Do you want me to try calling her? I don't have a landline at the apartment, but I can probably call the concierge."

"Maybe…Hang on…Bea wants to speak." George told his son. There was a pause whilst he handed the phone to Casey's friend.

"Derek, it's Bea."

"Hi Bea, she'll have just gone shopping or something."

"I don't think so, Derek. George is doing a dreadful job of explaining, but the reason why _I'm_ concerned about Casey is she's not where I was expecting her to be."

"Sorry, I don't follow."

"Casey had me drop her somewhere. I offered to wait and give her a lift home, but she said no as she didn't know how long she'd be. I decided to hang around the area anyway, and I went to a local mall to kill time. An hour later, I went back to see if she'd finished and they told me she had left abruptly fifteen minutes earlier. The receptionist was concerned because Casey seemed really upset. They hadn't wanted her to leave and had suggested calling you or Nora. She left anyway."

Derek started to get an uneasy feeling.

"Where did you take her?"

Bea took a deep breath through her nose. "I took her to see her consultant. She was looking to get her driver's permit re-instated and ask a few questions."

The uneasy feeling grew.

"Did you speak to him? Did you find out why she was upset?"

Unseen, Bea shook her head. "They wouldn't let me know what was discussed. Patient confidentiality. I drove around the area, but I couldn't find her. I'm sorry, Derek, I don't know why, but think she's disappeared."

Derek leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. "Yeah, Bea. So do I…the trouble is I'm fairly sure I also know why."


	14. Chapter Fourteen - Edge of the Abyss

**Chapter Fourteen – On the Edge of the Abyss**

 **AN: Please try and avoid speculating in the reviews (you can always PM me). There are still a few people who haven't clicked. This story still has a way to go. But some questions will get answered in the next chapter.**

* * *

Derek had barely pulled into the parking lot of his father's office when Bea appeared on the sidewalk. She didn't look excited, so Derek knew the answer to his question before he asked it.

"Any news?"

Bea shook her head and leaned towards the open window of his car. Her hair was flapping in the wind and she was huddled into her coat.

"I've told George to take my car and go home to be with Nora. There is no point in hanging around here, it's unlikely that Casey would come here, and if she does, one of the office staff will let us know. Right now, George needs to be comforting Nora.

Derek nodded his agreement.

"I phoned the concierge at my apartment building and she visited the apartment, but she says she could tell as soon as she opened the door, it was deserted." He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. This could not have happened at a worst time. Why did personal stuff always happen when you were busy?

He snorted to himself. He was a cop. When was he not busy? And it wasn't like he hadn't been expecting this for five years.

"What do you want to do?" Bea's voice cut across his thoughts.

"Crawl into a hole and hide this one out?" Derek sighed. "Eventually, we are going to find Casey, and when we do there is going to be a major ass-chewing and it's all going to get ridiculously messy."

Bea couldn't help the grin. Derek gave a weak smile too. "When we find my beloved step-sister, I need to know what I'm walking into. We know she's upset, and we know she was fine before she saw the consultant. I need to know what the guy said to her. Right now, I want to knock his teeth down his throat for not reading her notes properly! It says in clear letters 'PLEASE CONSULT NEXT-OF-KIN BEFORE DISCUSSING WITH PATIENT'. They were supposed to talk to Nora first."

"They won't talk to you, Derek. I tried. You need to be next of kin and, even then, I think it might take a court order."

Derek shook his head. "Nah. You just need to know how to approach them. A good interrogation is all in the question. 'You staying here, or do you want me to drop you at Dad's?"

"Yeah. Drop me at your family's. At the very least, I make a good cup of tea."

* * *

" _Where_ is she?" Nora pleaded, as they walked through the front door. She was sitting on the sofa and there was a balled-up tissue in her hand. "We've tried everywhere!"

"Everywhere except the place Casey actually is." Robbie pointed out unhelpfully. George shook his head at his youngest son, even as his eldest sat down on the coffee table in front of his step-mother. Any other time, she'd have told Derek off.

Any other time, he wouldn't have done it.

"Nora, this is Casey we are talking about." Derek took her hands in his own and Nora was surprised at how soft they were. "She rarely does anything other than 'sensible', and even when she's in a funk with us, she never puts herself at risk, or at the very least, if she _is_ doing something stupid, she makes sure someone knows what."

Nora sighed, loudly. "Where did all this come from, Derek? Why now? She was doing so well."

George put a hand on her shoulder. "You know why, honey. The consultant over-shared."

"I know that!" She threw her husband a frustrated look. "But why was she even there…and without us?!"

Derek glanced across at Bea. "She told Bea she wanted the consultant to acknowledge the progress she's made…and to authorise her driver's permit re-instatement."

Nora groaned and wrung her hands again. "And he told her…we are assuming…we don't know _what exactly_ he said to her! He could have said anything to her about her recovery. It might not have been…"

Her husband, now standing nearby, shook his head warningly. But it was Bea who spoke.

"Is there much that the consultant could have said? Of significance, I mean." She was thinking of the way Casey had dismissed Bea's concerns about her health.

Nora glanced around the room, Robbie had taken himself off to his room, but she still didn't want to open up and tell Bea.

"Some." She said cagily. Bea frowned.

"It might help if I knew?"

George sat down beside his wife. "We're not trying to exclude you, Bea. It's just this is Casey's tale to tell. It's her medical history. Even the rest of the family don't know the full details of what happened to Casey that night. Not even Derek."

Casey's step-brother, still holding Nora's hands, snorted loudly. "Yeah, right, Dad." He dismissed his father's statement with a certainty that spoke volumes. There was silence. George and Nora glanced at each other and then Nora turned back to Derek.

Derek's eyes met Nora's.

Nora had been Derek's step-mother for thirteen years, including half of his teens. She'd been there for many of the scrapes, most of the detentions and definitely all of the significant girls. She didn't think his eyes had ever been as revealing as they were now.

"Derek?" Nora questioned. It was just one word, but suddenly Nora and Derek were once again on the same page. It had happened a few times over the past thirteen years, but it wasn't common. Every single time, however, it had involved Casey.

Meanwhile, 'Clueless George' was confused.

"Derek?"

Derek rubbed the back of Nora's hands with his thumbs, took a deep breath and kept his honest eyes locked with hers.

"I do know, Nora. I know everything…

"But you can't…"

"…I know everything, because it's also _my_ story to tell."

Nora's eyes widened as she realised what Derek was saying; was admitting to.

There was a moment's pause while the revelation sunk in. Derek watched the expressions flit across Nora's face: Realisation that he was telling the truth, understanding of what that implied, deeper understanding of his behaviour over the past five years…

Then she gasped as she appreciated the enormity of his confession - Not just the confession, but what it truly meant - and the deep pain Derek was carrying.

Had been carrying, unsupported, for five years.

George and Bea watched in disbelief as Nora, first squeezed his hands and then slipped to her knees in front of Derek and pulled him into her arms.

"Oh my god, sweetie!" She exclaimed in a choked sob. "I'm so sorry I never realised what you were going through! The pain! We've let you down; underestimated you SO badly!"

It wasn't the reaction Derek was expecting – by any means! He closed his eyes as she began to cry into his neck, and his arms slid around her frame, slender now from the years of worry about her eldest child. As a teenager, Derek had resisted any form of PDA, but he'd needed this particular hug for a very long time. It was a hug he never thought he would receive.

* * *

A short while later as he walked down the path from the family home to his car, Derek had been forced to wipe the tears from his cheeks, and it was several minutes before he could see well enough to drive. Nora hadn't wanted him to leave, particularly in the state they were both currently in, but he needed to find Casey so that everyone could begin the healing process, _together_.

Nora and Derek's hug had lasted a while and been rather wet. When they pulled apart, Derek had placed a kiss on his step-mother's forehead and held her gaze, once more.

"I have to go and find her, Nora. Only I can deal with this."

Nora nodded. "Text us when you do. Where will you start?"

"The clinic. I should be able to catch them before they close. I know we all need to talk, but it will have to wait." He smiled weakly. "I guess Casey and I are both grounded for eternity?"

Nora smiled sadly. "Punishment _definitely_ already served."

"Can I tell Casey that? It might stop her trying to flee the country to avoid your anger."

They both smiled weakly. Derek had stood up then, to leave.

George and Bea were still baffled. It would be up to Nora to fill them both in.

* * *

It was a bit of a rush crossing town to arrive at the clinic before it closed, but Derek managed it. The receptionist saw him arrive and met him at the door. Stella had known Derek for a long time, since he and Nora had accompanied Casey to most of her appointments. First, he had been the one pushing his step-sister in a wheelchair and then, as an arm to lean on, as he tried to coax her away from the sticks.

"Any news?" She asked hopefully, knowing that Casey was missing and having witnessed for herself how upset she was. Derek shook his head.

"I need a brief chat with the guy she saw." Derek saw Stella's hesitation. "I'm not going to ask him to break patient confidentiality. I just want to tell him what I think happened so that I can gauge just how badly the appointment went."

Stella nodded. "He's new to the practice, though an experienced orthopaedic surgeon and," she added quietly, "therefore, a little arrogant. However, he recognises he's made a serious mistake, and he's keen to limit the damage, so I think he'll be a little more approachable than normal. I'll just let him know you are here."

And she did, eventually leading Derek down the corridor to the very room where Casey had had her appointment.

After that, things went pretty much as planned. Derek explained _exactly_ who he was and outlined what he thought had happened. The consultant had said "I can't confirm or deny that", whilst giving a quick nod of confirmation. Derek had sighed and turned to go.

" _Should_ you have read her notes properly, you would have seen the warning, and this wouldn't have happened." He told the consultant… and then relented. "But that doesn't make this your fault. Her family made a decision five years ago not to tell her. I wasn't exactly consulted at the time, but had I disagreed with their decision, I could have made my own decision to share this with Casey, back then. Of course, she has a right to know, and I was always going to tell her…"

"When the time was right." The consultant said. Derek shook his head.

"No. There was never a _right_ time. I wanted to tell her only when I thought telling her wouldn't stop her fighting for her life."

* * *

Derek texted Nora to update her and then he sat in his car in the parking lot, thinking. Since the accident, Casey had few places where she felt truly safe: home, work and their apartment. He knew she wasn't at the family home or his father's workplace, and he doubted she would have gone to any of their friends' houses. It had been so long since she had seen most of them regularly, and even Stuart was too distant a friend to provide real comfort. Besides, Derek knew Casey and he could guess at the frame of mind she was in. She needed peace and quiet. She needed to be alone.

The obvious place was their apartment.

There she could go and be quiet without the family questioning her. There she was safe…

…and yet, the concierge for the apartment block had checked the apartment and found it empty.

Derek frowned.

That particular concierge was also female and about Casey's age. He smiled gently. He wondered how long it had taken Casey to persuade the other woman to lie to Derek. Knowing Casey, probably about two minutes! It sounded like, even though she hadn't moved in yet, Casey was already making friends with the locals.

He leaned forward and started the car's engine, pulled on his seat belt and slowly pulled out of the lot. He took the drive to the apartment slowly too. Now that he was fairly certain he knew where Casey was, he wasn't in a hurry anymore.

She needed space.

* * *

Robbie Venturi wasn't sure what was worse. Was it when grown ups shouted? Or when everything went really quiet? Because Mom and Derek crying earlier was bad enough, but now everyone was just sitting there in silence…waiting. It made him feel uncomfortable, so he took himself off to his room.

He'd had a good childhood so far. Kind, loving parents who gave him just the right balance of what he needed and what he wanted. He had siblings who, though he only shared one parent with each of them, worshipped him. They had morphed into secondary sets of parents, each with a particular skill set. Derek taught him how to have fun and play sport, Casey fed him and gave him homework advice, Lizzie helped him understand their family and all its quirks, Edwin ensured he was never short on his allowance and Marti…she taught him how to cope with being the youngest in the family.

So, it was Marti he turned to when his emotions got the better of him and when a mother's hug just wasn't enough. It was Marti who got him through Casey's accident.

Robbie had been very small when Casey was hurt in the accident. But he did remember it. How could he forget the many nights when his mom couldn't be with him because she was at the hospital, praying for her eldest child to wake up? Or the joy throughout the family when Casey finally came home?

It was a good job he had such a large family around him, because for a while, everyone was very distracted. Even his hero, Derek. _Especially_ his hero, Derek! Before Casey had been hurt, Robbie had been too young to see how Derek and Casey came as a (rather dysfunctional) package deal, but afterwards, when she finally came home, it was hard to miss. Now, as he became old enough to understand a little more about love and human relationships, he was thoroughly confused. Because Casey and Derek just screamed "couple", and yet everyone kept telling him they were brother and sister.

Since it was Lizzie who interpreted their family for him, Robbie had tried asking her about Casey and Derek. Lizzie had merely shrugged and said distractedly, "No idea. Ed, Marti and I have been trying to work that out since the day they met. Try asking Derek." Then she had grinned, and said "If he answers the question, come and tell me what he says – coz we have a pool going."

So, Robbie asked Derek flat out, "What is Casey to you?"

Derek had been of no help whatsoever.

"Unique." Was all he'd said and then resumed their skating practice, and the opportunity for talk was lost.

But, seeing Derek being hugged by Robbie's mom because Casey was missing…it was just another tick in the column marked "not Derek's sister".

Of course, she _was_ Robbie's sister, and Robbie _was_ worried about Casey, of course he was. The family had already experienced her long-term absence – and it had nearly broken them. He hoped today's tears wouldn't last, and more than everything, he didn't want a repeat of five years ago.

He lay on his bed thinking about this, before moving across to his PC and firing up Skype. It was time to talk to Marti.

* * *

It was Marti who phoned Lizzie, who phoned Edwin.

"Hey Smarti!" Lizzie, reclining on her bed while reading lecture notes, picked up straight away. "Ringing to ask me to bail _you_ out this time?" She joked. There was silence the other end of the phone. "Marti?"

Marti coughed, and when she spoke her voice was quiet, timid, even. Totally unlike Lizzie's younger sister. "Erm… Lizzie, Robbie just skyped me. Something's going on at home with Casey and he's worried."

"Ok…any idea what?" Lizzie was sitting bolt upright on her bed now. Everyone listened when Robbie spoke. Robbie might be the most normal of George and Nora's children.

"Not really. Something about Casey going missing and Nora and Derek in tears."

"Fuck!" Lizzie stood up. "Having you tried calling George?"

"No-one's picking up at his office, and the home line is engaged. He rejected my call when I tried his cell."

"Did you try Derek?"

"He did that automated 'I'm driving and can't take your call' thing. Who else can I try?"

"No one we'd really want to involve in this until we know more. Where are you?"

"On the train back to Toronto. Robbie needs me." Marti said simply.

Lizzie swallowed and grabbed her laptop. "I'm booking a flight. Let me know if you need me to get on it."

She hung up then and dialled Edwin.

"Lizard! Wow! Long time, no hear! Does this mean I'm forgiven?" He sounded stupidly chirpy. Unseen, Liz curled an eyebrow.

"Big, drunken lunch?" She asked pointedly.

Edwin snorted. "No. You know me…I'm allergic to alcohol. Wouldn't touch a snifter."

"What's with the giddiness then?"

"High octane Java, double espresso with a caffeine shot…black." Edwin admitted. "Does the same job, but without the hives…so are you going to answer my question?" He lowered his voice. "Have you forgiven me, yet?"

Lizzie pulled a face and sat down on her bed. "Ed…" She warned. She wasn't ready to talk to him about the reason forgiveness was necessary, mainly because she wasn't really sure how she felt about the original act. It was…complicated. Doubly complicated, because ever since the _original act,_ both she and Edwin had spent quite a bit of time in police holding cells.

Edwin sighed. "Ok…so if we aren't talking forgiveness, why are you calling?"

"Where are you, Ed?"

"Toronto. Meeting with a client today over lunch…hence the high-octane coffee. Why?"

Lizzie gave the air a punch. "Right answer! You need to go home…to Mum and George. Right now." Her tone was deadly serious, and Edwin, for once didn't miss it.

The caffeine wore off instantly. "Why, sweetheart?" He asked, softly.

"Because something is wrong with Casey, Robbie's upset, no-one's answering their phones, Marti's on a train, no one's answering their phones, I'm stuck in fucking Vancouver, and did I mention, NO ONE is answering their phones!"

"I answered mine." Edwin pointed out.

Lizzie smiled. "Yes, Ed…You did."

* * *

"…so, in conclusion, a BOLO isn't necessary, but I'm going to have to take the rest of the day off to sort this out. I'll let you know about tomorrow." Derek concluded over the phone to Jazz. He was still driving towards his apartment, but by now, the slowness of his journey was down to rush hour and not his desire to give Casey some space.

"Crap, man." Jazz answered. "Sure, of course. We can handle things from this end. Agatha's looking for the baby, we're tracking down the other members of the dance group, and we're working on your suggestion that we look for past employees of the Sutton organisation: admin staff, servants and so on. I'm wondering whether we ought to interview the wife and mother as well."

Derek considered the idea. "Might be a bit early for that." He commented and then he scratched his head. "You know, when the dust settles on volcano MacDonald-Venturi, maybe this will be a good thing. The doctor's revelations may just help Casey regain some more of her memories from that time."

"Just what exactly did the doctor tell her?" Jazz asked, really curious now.

Derek glanced out at the traffic for a moment and seriously considered telling Jazz, because he would need to eventually. Jazz was too good a friend not to bring into the secret – and of course – if things continued the way they were between their two friends, Jazz and Bea would be too close for them not to share and Derek knew that by now Nora would have told Bea.

"Jazz, dude, I want to tell you, I really do, but I need to talk to Casey first, ok? Hopefully, tomorrow when I'm back in."

"No problem. You think she will be okay?"

The traffic started moving again. "No idea. I've never cocked up this big before."

Derek ended the call with Jazz and placed another call immediately.

"Hi Rosa." He said simply.

"Derek?" The woman on the other end of the phone sounded surprised and a little cautious. Derek chuckled.

"Wow! You really do remember every single one of us by our voices." He commented as he pulled up at a red light. Rosa chuckled softly too.

"Of course! I never lie, Derek. Especially not to my patients, however much they may lie to me. Although, I'm not sure the term "my patient" really applies to you anymore…How long has it been since you were last in? Six months?" Her tone had cooled a little. Unseen, Derek looked up at the ceiling of his car, waiting for the rest of the lecture. "I don't recall agreeing that we should leave it so long between appointments."

"I know, I know." Derek admitted.

"In fact," Rosa continued. "I seem to remember saying that it was important that we met at least once a month for quite a while yet."

"Consider my wrists slapped, Rosie."

"It's important, Derek. Your job, the situation you're dealing with…you can't do it alone."

Derek sighed and the traffic started moving again. "I'm not alone. My family…"

"Your family is amazing, your friends are amazing, but that will not stop you relapsing, Derek. You cannot afford to revert to type. Remember how much you hate being on medication."

"That was for six months out of five years, Rosa. I.."

"It should have been for twice as long, and I should have put you back on it on three different occasions, but you talked yourself back on track. Six months without guidance…it's not good."

"Rosa, I know. Okay…I get it. Why the hell do you think I'm calling now?"

"You want to make an appointment?"

Derek paused in his conversation to check the road as he came to a junction, and then leaned back in his seat.

"Appointments…plural. And some advice."

"Go on…"

Derek took a deep breath. "I need to you see me…and Casey."

Rosa gave a sharp intake of breath. "You told her?"

"Hang on."

Derek gave up trying to concentrate and pulled into the parking lot of a strip mall. He parked swiftly across multiple spaces because the mall was closed, and no one would care.

"No. I didn't tell her. She found out."

Rosa closed her eyes briefly and rubbed her temple with her fingers. Sometimes she blamed her white curls on moments like this. "Oh! Dear god." She whispered. "How?"

"Stupid consultant started talking to her about her future. How _the past_ would affect her future. He didn't read her notes, properly." Derek paused. "But, it's my mess. I should have told her years ago."

"Yes, you should have. But we've talked about this. You weren't exactly firing on all cylinders back then. When you came to me after the accident, you were a mess."

"I still am, Rosa. What if this is it? What if this is when she walks away?"

There was a long pause. "Then we will deal with it. We will get through it. Is it likely? What does Casey say?"

"I don't know. She found out on her own and no one has seen her since. I've spent all afternoon trying to find her."

"Oh no!"

Derek scratched at his head. "I think I know where she is now though. I'm on my way there now."

Rosa nodded. "Just you? You're not going in mob-handed?" She cautioned.

"Credit me with a little sense. I stood the family down. They have the kinds of questions that can wait. They'll get _their_ chance to explain why they behaved the way they did later. Right now, it's about me and Casey."

"And Charlie."

Derek closed his eyes against the tears. "It's always about Charlie, Rosa. You know that."

"Of course."

"And Casey is five years behind. She has a lot of catching up to do."

Rosa leaned back in her chair. "Maybe. People deal in different ways. You told me Casey is good at showing her emotions."

Derek snorted. "That maybe the biggest understatement I've ever heard."

Rosa laughed. "It's a good thing, Derek. Half the problem with you was getting you to acknowledge you have emotions…other than testosterone-fuelled male aggression."

"Hey! I'm not aggressive!"

Rosa gave a more ladylike snort. "You're a hockey player, Derek."

"Former." He corrected. "And that's just on the ice."

"Derek, you grew up in a house of conflict – gentle though it was. You watched your parents' marriage fall apart and your father bring in interlopers, including the biggest emotional challenge of your life in Casey."

"She's not that bad."

Rosa smiled. "You've learned to do a good job hiding your emotions. Through the injury, the shooting at work…and all the other work-related stuff. That's a lot for most people to cope with, even if they do share their emotions. You don't." She paused. "And then there's Charlie. And the one person who should be able to help you with that…"

"I know. Look Rosa, I get it. The six months wait wasn't intentional. Things have moved on a lot since I saw you. Casey's…"

"Casey's what? How's she doing? Emotional upset aside, I mean."

Derek smiled. "Casey is Casey. Properly Casey, I mean. Her memory is still shot, but she's back on her feet. Rosa, she danced this week! And sang…"

Rosa beamed. "Oh Derek! That's fantastic!"

"We've even started arguing again."

"Uh-Huh!" Rosa chuckled. "Why doesn't that surprise me? Have you pranked her yet?"

"I was considering it, before…today."

Rosa rolled her eyes. "That was a joke, Derek."

"I know…but honestly, when I know I can prank her, and she can cope with it. That's when I know she's my…Casey."

" _Your_ Casey?" Rosa queried.

"You know what I mean."

In her office across town, Rosa bit her bottom lip.

"Yeah, Derek. I do. Right! When shall we make this appointment for? And what's the advice you need?"


	15. Chapter Fifteen - Charlie

**Chapter Fifteen – Charlie**

* * *

The reception area of the apartment block was quiet when Derek arrived. It was early evening by now, and dark. Shortly, the other residents would be returning from work, so he was pleased to avoid the rush.

The duty concierge was male and in his fifties, and you couldn't help but appreciate the timing of the duty roster. If this guy had been on duty this afternoon, Derek might have been here hours ago. Then again, Casey would probably have talked this guy around too.

His face lined and dark with shadows, his eyes slightly red from uncharacteristic tears, Derek didn't recognise himself in the mirrored walls of the elevator, though the reflection held the same large storage box in its arms and carried the same grocery bag on its shoulder. Rosa had given Derek three main pieces of advice: "Listen to her, love her…but most of all… feed her." He'd smiled at that. She'd also booked them in for a home visit, first thing the next morning.

As he slipped his key into the front door of the apartment, Derek remembered the euphoria of the first time he had brought Casey here just days ago. The excitement, as she realised they were finally moving out of the family home, the thrill of their own place, and the freedom the apartment would bring. He hoped this was a temporary blip in Casey's progress. That she would still want to make the move. That she still saw him as sanctuary. Would she understand he wasn't trying to hurt her? The complete opposite, in fact.

Their apartment was in darkness. Across the main room, the only light was from outside, the moon-lit cityscape illuminating the main living area with its neon lights, street lighting and general light pollution. It was enough, despite the long shadows, to tell that the living room was empty. He wasn't particularly surprised. It made sense that Casey wouldn't stay within easy view of the front door.

Derek placed the box on the kitchen worktop, put down the grocery bag and shivered. The apartment was cooler than he would have liked, and he remembered that the heating wasn't properly set for occupation. As if on autopilot, he removed his jacket and unclipped his gun and holster, taking both to one of two gun safes he'd had installed. A small teenaged part of his brain questioned whether it was sensible to approach Casey without protection, and despite himself and the situation, he smiled at the thought. Then he frowned, went back to the storage box, removed a smaller box from a plastic bag and took it to the same safe.

Heading towards the upper floor, on auto-pilot, Derek paused by the thermostat and increased the temperature. As he moved, he didn't try to be too quiet, but he wasn't trying to make a noise. It was a moot point whether he was even aware of his own actions now. His focus was Casey.

At the top of the stairs, he went straight to Casey's room. It had been designed to be her sanctuary, and she'd spent the last few days furnishing it to make it exactly that. With this thought in mind, he knocked gently before slowly opening the door.

Derek walked into the darkened room, which like the living area downstairs, was lit only by the view beyond the windows and the glow of a small LED on a power socket in the corner of the room. But it was enough for him to see her. Casey was sitting on the floor by the window. The side of her head was resting against the glass, and her knees were pulled up to her chest as though she was cuddling herself. She didn't move as he crossed the carpet and sat down slightly to one side of her, in a position which mirrored her own. In another time, he would have urged her to get up, to sit on a chair, or even just a cushion, for the sake of her hips. But he knew she had probably been in that position for hours anyway, and now wasn't the time to start telling her what to do.

He gazed at her face, trying to read her expression, but all he saw was the damage hours of crying had done to her eyes and her skin. He guessed that the tears had run dry rather than the need to cry had gone. Did he blame himself for the tears? Only partly. Tears had been inevitable, _whenever_ Casey found out the truth. Tears, he could not have stopped.

Derek turned his head to look out at the city and the millions of people moving from their work day to their evenings. Mostly they went into the night with joy and the end of toil. Mostly. He wondered how many other people were experiencing similar emotions to his right now.

"I'm sorry." He said simply and left it at that. He watched as she closed her eyes against his words, and saw she was drained, with no more to give. For the first time in a long time, he realised that, maybe, waiting really had been the right thing to do. He wasn't sure Casey could have coped with the events of today any earlier.

He wasn't sure she was coping now.

Casey glanced at Derek and then back to the lights.

"It was a new consultant. He assumed I knew. So when I asked about my prognosis for the future, what restrictions to a normal life I faced…He was quite clinical in telling me, how, because the damage done by the accident was significant and 'left the foetus unviable', "coupled with the scarring from the accident…and the procedure to remove"…He said my chance for a 'Rainbow baby' was 'significantly reduced'."

She wiped fresh tears from her eyes with an old tissue. Derek reached for the tissue box beside her chair and handed it to her. She took it, but there was no gratitude.

"Why didn't anyone tell me?" She demanded in a voice heavy with emotion. "Why did they let me go on in ignorance? For _five_ years!"

Derek shifted uncomfortably where he was seated. This wasn't his question to answer, as he could only speak for himself. But Casey needed someone to give her some answers right now, she could get the specifics later.

"From the fam's point of view? Honestly? I think because they haven't had time to process it themselves. For the past five years the focus has been on your survival. I don't think there was even a discussion about telling you. It was only George and Nora who knew, and they just didn't think you were ready for that information. They certainly weren't ready to talk about it with the rest of us, although Nora tells me they asked the advice of the doctors, and the medical staff recommended delaying telling you. I'm not sure the doctor meant they should delay it for five years, however."

"I lost a child, Derek. And no one thought I should know!" Her voice was nasal, from the tears. " **You** , of all people, you didn't think I should know? You've interfered in everything else about my recovery. Why not just tell me?"

He sighed and put his head in his hands. "Of course, you needed to know. Don't forget, I warned you, Casey. I told you there were things we needed to talk about."

Casey sniffed the type of indelicate sniff you can't help making when you are desperately upset, but she watched him all the same. Derek lifted his head, wearily.

"The time would _never_ be right." He told her. "The priority was your physical recovery. The mental stuff…that had to come later."

"That wasn't your decision to make."

"Exactly, it _wasn't_ my decision to make! Casey, look at who I am to the family. I'm your step-brother. If you're lucky, I'm supposed to remember you at Christmas and your birthday. I'm not supposed to be involved in discussions about your medical care. No one consulted me at the time. They only found out that I even knew this afternoon!"

Casey looked out of the window again.

"Even so, they shouldn't have shut _you_ out." She murmured. There was a very long pause. "How are you?" She asked, still quietly. "Honestly?"

"Me?" Derek looked confused and a little defensive. "I'm not important right now, it's you we're all worried about."

Casey shook her head, vigorously. "That's not what I meant." She told him. "I meant how did you cope? How _are_ you coping? With the baby's…the loss. _Our_ loss."

Derek sat forward and stared at her. In the half light, it made his features pale, the shadows under his eyes defined his face in ways she didn't recognise. Casey saw he was Derek, but a different Derek, as though pain had etched into his skin. She wondered how she hadn't seen his pain before.

She spoke softly.

"Derek, I may have lost the memory of my pregnancy, and I may have lost the memory of a lot of things from that time. But, I'm pretty sure I know _exactly_ who my baby's father is."

There was silence. Derek closed his eyes and rested his head against the window again. He didn't speak because he couldn't speak.

"When did you start remembering?" He asked quietly after a few moments.

Casey blew her nose. "About us?"

He nodded.

"I never forgot."

Derek's body jerked involuntarily. "But…"

"Well, actually, that's not entirely true." Casey went on. "Obviously, there was the time I was in a coma and then the initial recovery period after that. But, when I started piecing things back together, that part of my memory came back pretty quickly. So, I guess, I've known for most of the past five years."

She said it so matter-of-factly.

Derek stared at her. "Why the _hell_ didn't you say something?" He demanded.

Casey stared back. "Why the _hell_ didn't you?" She shot back. Casey paused. "I didn't say anything because you confused me." She admitted. "I had these memories of…" She took a deep breath. "… _everything_ we were to each other."

Their eyes met for a long second.

"Clear and confused at the same time. I mean I knew that we'd been _involved_ , but I couldn't work out the extent or the time line. It was more like remembered feelings." She blew her nose again. "Really _intense_ feelings…and yet, whenever you were there, in the hospital, you never behaved as though… _like a lover_. You. Never. Behaved. Like. A. Lover. There were no flowers, no cards saying, 'To my girlfriend'. You didn't kiss me – well, not like a lover at least. I didn't understand." She shrugged. "Quite frankly, I still don't. You're consoling, comforting, but you never show any…real interest. Your affection is like that of a best friend. I'm missing so much of my memory that I just assumed that what we had was over. That we had split up or that I wasn't what you wanted anymore. And like you said, I was dealing with so much else. I was grateful that you were there at all, and I just waited for the moment when you felt like you'd played your part enough, gave up and walked away. I thought if I brought it up, it would push you to leave sooner." She sighed. "When I first found out about you buying the apartment, I thought that was what this was about. I thought you were walking away."

Derek turned his head to look out of the window. "Hence the silent treatment."

Casey shook her head. "It wasn't me giving you the silent treatment. I just didn't know how to deal with it. How to move on from that. Or what of us – of our friendship - was left."

She wrung her hands. "And now I realise just how much you were / are hiding from me. Just how little you want me."

"Casey…that's not true." Derek protested, reaching out to touch her hand with his own. He exclaimed as his warm hand met her ice cold one. It was like touching a corpse.

"Jesus! You're freezing!" He brought his hand up to touch her cheek and his finger caught strands of her hair. They were wet. He put a hand on her shoulder.

Casey's clothes were damp.

"Why are you wet?" He asked with concern.

Casey shrugged. "It was raining when I left the clinic, I didn't have an umbrella and it's a mile or so."

"You walked here?!" Derek queried. "This afternoon…five hours ago!"

Casey frowned. "Five hours?!" She sneezed and looked at her watch. "Wow! I guess it has been."

"Casey, I drove in that, it wasn't rain, that was sleet! And you've been sitting in cold wet clothes for hours!" Derek stood up. "I'm running you a hot bath." He announced, grabbing a throw from the bottom of Casey's bed. "Take those wet things off."

Casey began to protest, but he put up a hand.

"I'm not avoiding our discussion, I promise, but I've had enough of visiting you in hospital. The last thing we need right now is you catching pneumonia."

He pressed the button to lower the electric blinds on the window for privacy, reached across and switched on the bedside light.

They both blinked.

"Oh!" Casey exclaimed, when she saw Derek's face. Even in the electric light, with the extra shadows gone, the pain was visible in his eyes. "You look…"

Derek turned his head away. "You don't look too hot either, sweetheart."

Sometimes, it takes someone else to point out why you should be in discomfort, for you to actually feel it. So, it was with Casey. The moment Derek pointed out that she was wet and cold, she began to feel the effects. First, she shivered. Then she sneezed.

Derek finished running the bath, added bubbles from some bottles that Casey had clearly bought earlier in the week, and turned back into the bedroom to see where Casey was.

She was struggling with the buttons on her clothes.

"Sorry," She apologised. "My fingers are suddenly numb."

Derek crossed the bedroom and held his hand out to help. "…if that's ok?" He asked.

Casey snorted. "It's not as though you haven't seen me naked before." She commented. They looked cautiously at each other again and both smiled weakly. Taking that as consent, Derek started to unbutton her clothes. Both of them were very aware of every move, but neither reacted.

When Casey was undressed, Derek wrapped her in the fleecy throw again and led her to the bathroom.

"Nora's going to kill me when she finds out you walked here in that weather." He commented. "I'm supposed to be your guardian angel."

Casey smiled. "Your wings are bent, not broken." She said. "No one is perfect." Then she sighed with relief as she slipped into the deep, warm bath.

Derek made to leave, but Casey stopped him.

"Stay and talk. Please." She suggested. Derek placed a towel on the lid of the toilet and sat down.

For a moment, there was silence, and then he breathed out heavily. "You weren't allowed flowers in the hospital. Regulations." He commented, continuing their conversation from earlier. "There weren't too many 'Get well soon, girlfriend' cards available in the shop. I'm no Max and this wasn't your appendix, I wasn't buying you a plushy - and the timing **really** wasn't right for a 'congratulations on your new baby' card." He tilted his head to look at her. "Plus," He coughed. "There was also an element of self-preservation in not speaking up. Our parents didn't know we were involved." He admitted. "But though I might not have been there when the doctors told Nora about the baby, I knew what had happened. If I'd stood up and declared we were a couple just after she'd been told you'd had a miscarriage…Somehow everything would have been my fault and I would have been excluded from your recovery. Even in their ignorance of our situation, look how they've been whenever you've had a setback. They remember antagonistic Derek and Casey of our teenage years, and so it's been me who 'pushed Casey too hard'. Every time, I stepped back a little. I did what I needed to do to so they would let me stay near you. Only when it seemed you wanted me there did I have confidence in where I stood."

Derek paused and wiped something from his cheek. "And in answer to your question…about how I've coped? I haven't, Casey. Not at all, not since the moment I heard that Charlie had died."

Casey frowned. "Charlie?"

Derek closed his eyes as he listened to his baby's mother speak its name for the first time. "We never knew if the baby was a boy or a girl. Not even when you delivered…I never got the chance to ask for a DNA test, which was the only way to determine the sex at that point."

Derek swallowed hard. "I _refuse_ to call the baby an 'it', so in my mind he or she became 'Charlie'. I had a lot of time to consider the situation. I thought, as a name, "Charlie" was suitably ambiguous. You know…Charles or Charlotte." He smiled at her, affectionately. "I know you were thinking about calling the baby 'Charlotte' if it was a girl, because we discussed it. – and you know me, I'd have shortened the name – whether she was my daughter, or he was my son." Derek corrected himself. "Is my daughter. Is my son."

Casey smiled even as the tears began in earnest again. "It's perfect, Derek. Thank you. You thought of our baby when I forgot."

"I never wanted to hurt you." He told her. "This was all _so_ far from what I wanted." Derek stood up and crossed to side of the bath, where he knelt and wiped the tears from her cheeks. Casey turned her face into his hand and pressed her lips against his palm. Derek kissed the top of her head, ignoring the wetness of her hair.

"Let's get you warm, fed and tucked up in bed. Then we can talk some more."

"We have lots to talk about." Casey agreed.

"And everything to say." Derek told her.

* * *

Casey had to admit, devastating though today was, a warm bath, a clean bed, and hot food and drink _did_ make her feel better. But, more than that, it was Derek's presence, perched on the bed as she ate the pizza he had cooked, hovering like an attentive slave.

She should be angry with him, distraught at his deceit by omission, but Casey was a compassionate person. After five hours of Casey crying for her lost child and berating an absent Derek for his lies of omission, it was as though a mask had been pulled from his face, and now all she saw was the pain _he_ was suffering – had been suffering for five years - a reflection of her own.

It wasn't only about the emotion in his eyes. When she had tried to work out the words he _should have_ spoken to her five years ago, …no, she couldn't phrase it correctly either.

"Nothing cures all ills like hot chocolate or a pizza." Derek said absently, picking at his own food, but not really eating anything. Casey tried to remember the last time Derek had failed to clear his plate. Nothing came to mind.

"You should eat." Casey told him. "You'll need all the strength you've got when Mom finds out who Charlie's father is."

Derek smiled sadly. "Actually, she already knows."

"You told her?!" Casey looked panicked. Derek put a hand on the duvet under which Casey's thigh lay. It was meant as a reassuring gesture, but Casey found it hard to ignore Derek's seemingly innocent touches. They had too disruptive an effect on her. She wondered if it was wishful thinking, or a genuine spark between them.

Derek explained. "It's fine. I suggested we were grounded, but she disagrees. She thinks we've been punished enough. She even cried on my shoulder."

Casey leaned back on the headboard and groaned.

"All these things we have to explain, when most of the time, we don't understand it either." She sighed.

Derek stood up, put their discarded plates on the dresser and pulled himself onto the bed.

"What's not to understand?" He asked her, lying on the bed beside her, his head propped on his elbow on the pillow. "I think "you and I" was fairly straight forward."

"Lust, you mean?" Casey was staring at the ceiling.

Derek made an indelicate noise and hissed. "That's crap!"

Casey frowned. "Meaning?"

"Sweetheart, look me in the eye and tell me that it was just about sex."

Casey tried. She even said the words "It was just about sex." But she also looked Derek in the eye. There it was, hidden in the reflection of his eyes, the ghost of Derek and Casey past.

The floodgates opened, and a whole tidal-wave of memories came sweeping back. Lots of nights with naked bodies and frantic love-making, but also hours of talking away the night, sharing dreams and desires, gentle teasing, chaste cuddles and plans for the future. And merged in with all that, confusingly, moments from the most recent five years. Including the trip north to find Stuart, and the past week, where they had occasionally shared a bed.

Casey turned properly onto her side, and once more tonight, their positions were in sync, physically and figuratively. "Derek, am I missing something?" She took a deep breath. " _When_ did we split up?"

He stroked her cheek, leaned forward and whispered in her ear.

"We never did."

And everything Derek had done over the past five years finally made sense.

Casey felt Derek start to draw back from her face and she let out a long shaky breath she hadn't realised she was holding. His face drew level with hers and she could see into his eyes again.

There was no cockiness, or confidence, just raw emotion and fear. An echo of her own emotions. Casey's heart began to pound in her ears as she leaned forward and kissed Derek chastely, and quickly on the mouth.

Derek met her gaze again as she pulled away. First there was curiosity, amusement and then something else.

"Casey," He complained with a whine. " _That_ wouldn't light a match."

He grinned at her then, and gently put his hand to the back of her head, coaxing her forward. Unlike his kisses in recent weeks, now when he kissed her, there was no ambiguity.

It was the kiss of a lover.

Casey closed her eyes and without breaking the kiss, his hands shifted in her hair.

"This is what I remember." Casey told him, a long second later when they took a moment's pause for breath. Her eyes were alive again for the first time today. Derek pulled her closer, their bodies aligned with each other and just a duvet between them.

"This is what I'll _never_ let you forget." Derek promised her with a smirk against her lips.

With a smirk…but his hands were shaking, and Casey knew they were both vulnerable.

Derek's phone rang just then. He reached behind him and picked it up from the bedside table. It was George. Derek showed the phone to Casey and they both groaned at the popping of their little bubble of emotions. Handling the grief was a process. They had to work out where _they_ were, before they could work out how they were going to handle the loss of their baby. Only then could they handle family.

Family, however, were impatient.

Flicking the phone to loud speaker, Derek answered.

"George!" He announced.

"That would be 'Dad' to you." George retorted. In the background, his voice echoed strangely.

" _Dad_." Derek corrected, pointedly. George got the message.

"I'm sorry, D. We promised we would give you and Casey some space." His voice echoed again accompanied by some form of clicking noise.

Derek nodded, unseen. "You did. _And_ …Hang on…where the _hell_ are you?"

George sighed. "The cellar. I'm hiding."

"From?"

"Everyone. How's Casey?"

Derek lifted his eyes to Casey's. He raised a hand and brushed her cheek with a finger again.

"Beautiful." He mouthed silently to the woman lying beside him. Casey pulled a face, but her fingers touched and then linked, once more, with his.

"She's ok." Derek commented aloud. "Safe, warm and fed. We're still talking, and she hasn't stabbed me yet, so I'm counting that in the plus column."

Casey stuck her tongue out at him. George chuckled at Derek's comment.

'Yeah, well, lucky you. I'm very much feeling under attack here."

Derek frowned. "Oh…why?"

George sighed. "Ed and Marti have turned up. Apparently, Robbie got scared while you were here earlier and called Marti…" Derek groaned. Casey looked confused.

"I'll explain, later." Derek mouthed. "Ed and Marti as a tag team…" Derek commented out loud.

"Oh yeah. And apparently, Lizzie is in the departure lounge at Vancouver airport."

"On her way to Toronto?"

"You got it. She's due to land just after midnight."

"Let me guess, you've drawn the short straw and get to pick her up?"

George sighed. "Yup." He sighed again. "I also drew the short straw and got to call you guys."

"About…?" Derek was watching Casey carefully.

"Marti's getting a little, forthright. She's demanding to know what is going on. And on the opposing team…Nora is getting protective. 'This is Casey's story, we shouldn't be telling it.' I quote."

"Oh." Casey commented.

"Dad…"

George ran his hand though his hair. "Look, Derek, I get it. This is a shit storm of epic proportions."

Casey's jaw dropped. Derek swallowed a chuckle.

"And, honestly, you deserve the right to hole up for the next century while you try and deal with, what must be, one of the hardest situations any couple should have to face."

Unseen by George, Casey smiled sadly at her step-father's words, and nodded. Derek squeezed her hand.

"I take it Nora explained the nuances of this afternoon's conversation to you and Bea?" Derek asked, inwardly marvelling that it was still the same day. It felt like years ago.

"Yes. And I'm sorry, Derek. For the lack of support, and for not involving you. It just never occurred to us that you were so deeply affected. I'm not sure how we'd have handled it if we had been aware." George admitted.

"I know. That was the whole reason why I never admitted anything five years ago. I was worried…"

"…that we'd stop you seeing Casey in the hospital. Yeah, I get it. That may even have been the case. Nora and I have talked about this a lot since you left the house, this afternoon. We can't decide how we would have reacted. But I just thought you needed a heads up, because if we don't tell Marti something, and soon, I reckon on it being twenty minutes before she's beating down your door." George picked up a can of paint from a shelf and inspected it. When he replaced the can on the shelf, he realised he now had paint on his hands. He cursed softly.

Casey shuffled closer to Derek and the phone.

"George," She said quietly. "It's okay. Let mom tell the kids. They need to know and I'm not sure Derek and I would know where to begin with telling them. I'm not quite ready to see them."

Across town, in his cellar, George stopped being fussed with the paint on his hands and listened to his step-daughter.

"Casey, honey…" He started gently. "I understand that, and we don't have to do this now."

Casey sighed. "Of course, we do. There have been enough secrets for a lifetime. I'm not ashamed of our baby, and I'm not ashamed of the relationship that created our baby. I don't want to hide, it's just I…" She looked up at Derek. "… _we_ need a little space to breathe." Derek quietly kissed her forehead. "Tell mom it's ok to tell the kids, but maybe wait until Lizzie is there, because she'll never forgive Mom if she was the one left out. Marti will just have to deal with that."

George nodded his agreement, and then realised she couldn't see him. "Ok." He said simply. He took a breath. "Your mom is worried about you. When do you think you'll be up for seeing her? I'm only asking because it will keep her off all our backs. Maybe come for breakfast?"

Casey looked up at Derek.

"Casey and I have an appointment in the morning." Derek saw the bafflement in Casey's eyes and clarified, knowing his words would be a surprise to both. "…an appointment to see my grief counsellor, Rosa. But I think, after that, we should be okay to come to the house and see everyone. What do you think, sweetheart?"

Casey was still staring at Derek. She nodded gently.

"Good. That's a plan. I'll call you in the morning, Dad."

Derek hung up, before the conversation could be prolonged.

"Rosa." Derek stated, anticipating several of Casey's unspoken questions. "Hmm…" He lay on his back and pulled Casey into his arms. She settled in the nook under his chin. "Her business card says she's a fully qualified grief counsellor, but, in reality, she's like one of those little dogs people send down rabbit holes." He smiled sadly at Casey. "She understands grief like no one I've ever met before. She taught me how to cry." Casey felt a lump rise in her throat.

Derek continued, tightening his arms around his child's mother.

"When I first met Rosa, our first session…it was all in anticipation of the grief I would feel when _you_ died, Charlie was only a part of what we discussed. You weren't expected to make it through the week. I didn't want to be there with her, I needed to be with you. But you had a blood clot and were in surgery. There was nowhere else to go. Days earlier when you were first admitted, an ER consultant found me in the men's room losing my metaphorical shit because no one would tell me if you were still pregnant. He broke protocol and gave me the bad news, even though I wasn't, technically, next-of-kin. Before he left me throwing up in one of the stalls, he gave me Rosa's business card and said "Fifth floor. This one's worth the money." He was right. I didn't go there then, but when they rushed you to surgery days later…I found myself in her office. It was her lunch hour, but she took me straight in and I talked for several hours straight. I've no idea how many clients she cancelled that day. She says no one important…but…"

Casey kissed the side of his neck. Derek turned to look at her and their lips met in a deep kiss. Casey shifted her body around Derek's until she was hovering above him. Something wet dripped onto his face, and he realised they were both crying softly, and their tears were merging on his cheek.

"Casey." He murmured, brushing the tears from her eyes.

"Shhh!" Casey kissed the tears from his eyes. "No more talking."

And then she kissed her way from his temple to his mouth.

It was only going one way after that. They fought with the duvet and clothing until there was nothing between them. Figuratively and literally: No issues, no secrets, no space. Derek traced and kissed every one of Casey's scars, grateful for the physical healing they represented. And whilst Casey appreciated the gentle attention, she made it clear her needs were more urgent, raw to match their emotions. Then they really were on the same page.

* * *

Afterwards, sated and damp from tears and exertion, they lay beside each other in silence. They weren't touching, and it felt as though they were miles apart.

"Crap!" Casey blew out a heavy breath.

"I'm sorry. After five years, I'm a bit rusty at that." Derek quipped back. Casey turned her head towards him and they both gave a small giggle. The humour faded and then the silence returned. Derek sat up and pulled the duvet over their naked bodies, then he lay beside her as close as he dare.

Raising his finger, he gently brushed the damp hair from her cheek. Her face was full of colour and the area around her eyes was swollen from tears, but he'd never thought her more beautiful. He dropped his palm to her breast bone and let his hand touch her skin.

"It's like an elephant's foot is resting just _here_ , isn't it?" he commented. "The grief, I mean."

"Yes." Casey covered his hand with her own and stroked it with her thumb. "Does it ease?"

Derek looked away. "When you find out, will you let me know?"

"Oh." Casey turned to the ceiling and then back again. "How do you cope?"

Derek shrugged. "You think I'm coping?" He asked in disbelief.

"You're functioning." Casey told. "I don't think I can get out of bed. I can't think about tomorrow or next week and focusing on my work…not happening. Even the sex, it was primal."

"I noticed." Derek smiled. "For me, I put one foot in front of the other. I deal with each thing as it happens. I don't think about the future." Derek told her. " _My_ future, the one I wanted, stopped the day Charlie died."

"Do you think I will remember?" Casey asked him. "Do you think I'll get the memories of that time back?"

"Part of me doesn't want you to remember. It would mean remembering the accident – and knowing what we've lost. But most of me wants you to." Derek told her, he slipped an arm around her middle. "The weeks leading up to everything…they were amazing. Finding out we were going to have a baby…You know all those TV programmes and films where the girl knows before the guy…does the test and then has to tell him…We weren't like that. You told me you'd missed your period before you took the test. We found out together! And, sure, the thought was scary, but we were in love, on top of the world. We weren't schoolkids who'd made a mistake. It just felt…right."

Casey smiled gently as he told her, and she didn't miss the moment when he described their early year of their relationship as 'love'.

"Scary? Because of telling our parents?"

"And the whole idea of _being_ parents. Apparently, that's quite normal." He paused. "You know, we'd just had a scan and you were just starting to show. The following weekend we were going to go home and tell everyone."

Casey frowned. "The photo from the other day. Me in the pink dress? That was just after the scan and I was 16 weeks then?"

Derek's eyes widened at her recollection. "Yes!"

"You made some comment about me not being able to wear the dress for much longer. You told me it would look like I'd swallowed a bowling ball."

Derek smiled broadly. "Yeah. I did! Wow!"

Casey closed her eyes and frowned. "I can't remember anything else."

"It doesn't matter. You remembered something." He rested his forehead against hers. "You remembered something about our baby."

Stunned and physically drained, Derek closed his eyes in relief. There was a long moment of silence.

"Casey." Derek murmured softly. "What are we going to do?"

"Derek…I'm sorry." Casey whispered. "This was all on your shoulders. I was useless. No one would have blamed you for walking away. I can't believe you are still here."

"I'm no saint, Casey. It's always been one day at a time." He slipped his hands into hers. "I can't even tell you if I could have carried on into next week." Casey nodded.

"I get it, I really do."

Derek pressed a small kiss to her lips.

"Shall we carry on fighting?" He asked softly.

"I think you and I fighting is as inevitable as it's always been." Casey said with a wry chuckle.

Derek snorted. "I meant fighting _for_ _us_ , MacDonald. Shall we fight for this?" He motioned between them with both their linked hands.

Casey pulled back and regarded him carefully. "You still want this? After…everything?"

"I asked myself that every day." He said honestly. Tears ran down Casey's cheeks as Derek's gaze met Casey's. "Never said 'no', yet. Always been a definite 'yes'. I lost Charlie, Casey. I'm not ready to lose you too."

"It'll probably grow boring very quickly." Casey told him. "Now that we're all on the same page. The next blonde who comes along will sweep you off your feet."

Derek laughed. Because, he knew now, the idea was completely insane.

"And that will be cool, because then you get to tell me 'I told you so'. But until then?"

"One day at a time?" Casey asked, moving close to him again.

"Sounds good to me." Derek pressed a chaste kiss against her lips.

Casey frowned.

"Just now, when you were…when we 're-connected'…the elephant's foot…I forgot it was there." There was a point to her statement and Derek got it straight away. "Maybe that's the only way to ease the pain…for now."

Derek smiled gently. "I can live with that." He confirmed and leaned forward again. "Besides, it's been five years. We have some catching up to do."

"Once more…with feeling?" Casey joked.


	16. Chapter Sixteen - Significant Other

**Chapter Sixteen Significant Other**

When Casey slept that night, she dreamt memories. They were moments in their past she had never thought she would experience again. Memories of the time six years ago, after Derek's officer-involved shooting incident and the lead up to the beginning of their…

How did she classify it? "Relationship" implied there had been nothing there before, "Romance" implied something short, and that everything had ceased the day of her crash.

The memories were vivid, and occasionally when Derek stirred beside her, he could hear her murmuring in her sleep.

* * *

 _ **Toronto – After the shooting**_

 _The door to the apartment opened quietly, which – as it was gone midnight – made Casey jump. She was sitting at the dining table in their living room, trying to look as though she was studying, but, in reality, clock-watching until Derek was safely home from his shift. She didn't entirely know why, but it was something she found herself doing every time he worked the late shift._

 _"Sorry." Derek apologised as he realised his tip-toeing hadn't worked. "I was trying to be quiet because I thought you were asleep." He frowned. "Why_ are _you still up?"_

 _"Mock Bar exam next week." Casey lied. "How was the shift?"_

 _"The best kind. Uneventful."_

 _They both silently acknowledged his point. Since the shooting incident, life had become more real in this MacDonald-Venturi residence. Both Casey and Derek were aware of how police officers sometimes don't return to their families at the end of their shift. The details of which were something they didn't share with the London Venturis. He had not told the rest of the family about the shooting, though Derek and Casey had attended the funerals of those colleagues of Derek's who had been shot in the shooting spree and Casey had joined the ranks of "family" within the station._

 _Derek had received both an investigation and then a Medal of Merit for his actions. He was ambivalent to the medal. Killing a man was not an action he was proud of. Protecting his colleagues was a necessity._

 _The current state of tolerance between Derek and Casey was also something they didn't share with the family back home. It wasn't as though they had stopped arguing or even full-on fighting. Derek wasn't convinced they would ever lose the need to mess with each other. Instead the sea change was the way they had shared more in recent months. Like waiting up for each other, sharing the cooking based on their work patterns and, occasionally spending time together just for the hell of it._

 _Neither was massively comfortable with how false it felt, as though something was bubbling under the surface._

 _"Not staying at_ _ **Lay**_ _la's?" Casey asked pointedly, to break the spell. She always emphasised the "lay" part of Derek's girlfriend's name, just because it wound Derek up._

 _Derek discarded his jacket. "Nope" He replied, popping his 'p'. "I thought I'd come home and annoy you instead."_

 _"Aw…you missed me."_

 _"Only because I have to account for every bullet fired from my service piece." Derek informed her. He crossed to the fridge and removed the dinner she had left for him. "So, what's the revision topic tonight? How to screw the client out of every red cent?"_

 _Casey sighed and started packing her books away. "No, actually. Fraticide – How to get away with murdering your brother."_

 _Derek raised an eyebrow as he put the plate in the microwave. "Niiiice. Any tips?"_

 _Casey stood up. "Yeah, put the toilet seat down in future or else." She picked up her things and walked towards her bedroom without looking over her shoulder. "Night!"_

 _Derek watched her go with a small smile and then turned to his microwave meal._

 _Five minutes later, he walked into her bedroom without knocking. His dinner plate and utensils in his hand._

 _"What I want to know," Derek stated. "Is whether there is a separate term for fratricide when it's your step-brother." He perched himself on the end of her bed._

 _Casey, who by now was used to him barging into her room unannounced, so much so she changed in the bathroom every night, looked up from the book she was reading._

 _"Of course!" She replied. "If it's your step-brother, it's called 'aggravated fratricide'."_

 _"Excellent!" He announced, shovelling food into his mouth with deliberate abandon._

 _"You've never had any grace." Casey told him._

 _Derek looked thoughtful. "You may be right," He told her, pointing with his knife. "Greta, Ginny possibly, but no Grace."_

 _"Der-ek…" Casey moaned, closing her book. "Seriously? You're supposed to be a respectable member of the police force. You disgust me."_

 _Derek grinned at her as he ate. "Surely, that is the point." He noted._

 _Casey closed her eyes and leaned back against the headboard in frustration. Derek continued eating and after a few moments, sensing he wasn't planning on leaving, Casey picked up her book and began reading again. The room was silent again. An, almost, companionable silence._

" _There's a doughnut in the kitchen." Casey told him when she saw he had finished._

 _Halfway to the door, Derek turned around. "Was that a joke about my job?"_

" _No, Derek. It's just a doughnut."_

 _He smiled softly. "OK, thanks."_

" _Close the door on your way out. I'm tired." She sighed. "I have to study tomorrow. I really do have exams soon."_

 _Derek stepped back towards the bed. "You'll ace them. You always do." He told her, and if you listened hard there was a small tone of pride._

 _Casey put her book on the bedside table and snuggled down into bed._

" _Only if I study properly." She told him. "And get a decent night's sleep." She added pointedly._

 _Derek walked to the side of the bed. "Then stop waiting up for me to make sure I get home ok." He told her and leaned down to kiss her forehead. Casey opened her eyes and met his gaze._

" _I can't help it." She admitted. They watched each other for a minute._

 _Derek broke the spell by blinking. He straightened up and walked towards the door._

" _You don't need to wait up, Casey." He said, pausing in the doorway. "Jazz has instructions to call you immediately if anything happens to me."_

" _What about your girlfriend? Does Jazz have instructions to call her? Or should I say, 'all of your girlfriends'?"_

" _It shouldn't take too long." Derek informed her with a shrug. "They have a telephone chain system in place. The first girl calls five girls, the second calls five…and so on."_

" _Moron." Casey chided._

 _Derek sighed. "For what it's worth, Casey, I haven't dated multiple girls at the same time since I was fifteen, and Layla… is old news."_

 _Casey frowned, and realised Derek had been at home a lot more in the evenings recently._

" _Oh. Sorry." She said quietly._

 _Derek laughed. "No, you're not. You hated her."_

 _Casey shrugged. "Which was exactly why you dated her in the first place."_

 _He looked thoughtful for a minute. "Hmmm…was she really Casey-bait? You know you are probably right."_

" _Yes, Derek. I always am."_

" _Ego much."_

" _ **Goodnight**_ _, Derek."_

" _Goodnight, Casey."_

* * *

 _The almost-truce had lasted a while now, Casey wasn't sure if this was a good thing or not. When they still lived at home, their truces barely lasted an hour, a day at tops. The current truce had been six months. Six months of banter and soft moments. Casey was worried they were starting to get along. The thought went against both their natures, and maybe it was for that reason that Casey started dating Gavin: Tall, good-looking, top of Casey's law class._

 _Derek hated him. He knew the type. Gavin was the kind of guy that gave people like Derek a bad name: Attractive, serial daters…but with added lying and cheating… So, Derek hated him._

 _Or maybe he just hated how Casey had a sex life and he didn't._

 _At least he assumed she was sleeping with the asshole, she'd been seeing him for six months by now. Guys like that, they don't hang around after date three unless there was something in it for them. Even Derek didn't work that fast._

 _Then again, she came home every night. Lots of giggling on the doorstep, and a pinkness to her cheeks that made Derek want to vomit. But at least she came home. And she kept Gavin out of the apartment._

" _Good evening?" Derek asked from the couch, a hockey highlights programme on the TV that he wasn't really watching._

" _Yes, thank you." Casey blushed again. Derek punched at the TV remote. "You didn't want to invite what's-his-face in?"_

" _And expose him to you? I'd rather double date with Chuck Norris."_

 _Derek started to open his mouth._

" _No, Derek. I'm not in the mood for a Chuck Norris joke." She started walking towards her bedroom. Derek shrugged, still flicking the remote at the TV._

" _It could be worse, you know. I could be making jokes about_ Gav-in _." Derek called after her. "At least I'm showing," He shivered. "…maturity." Casey frowned and turned around._

" _Yes, this is mature of you…why?"_

" _What?"_

" _Why are you suddenly being mature about my private life?"_

 _Derek turned to look at her with an amused expression. "Private life? Seriously, we live together, Casey. There's nothing private about your life. I should know, I've been reading your diary since you were fifteen."_

 _Casey's eyes filled with fire._

" _Derek Venturi, so help me, I'll…"_

 _She bit back whatever punishment had sprung to mind and turned on her heel, back to her room. Derek raised an eyebrow and turned back to the TV._

" _Welcome home, honey."_

* * *

 _Casey was on the phone to Emily. "Blue dress…silver accents…oh and I'm having my hair put up."_

 _"For auction?" A voice called from the kitchen. "It'd make a good Halloween wig!"_

 _"What? Oh, no…just Derek. Yes…he's still around. I'd say like a bad penny, but he's not that valuable. Anyway, this time I've checked, and Gavin's tux is definitely not 'baby blue' – no ruffles in sight." Casey walked to the bedroom door and kicked it shut. "And…erm…I took your advice. I booked a room in the hotel where the ball is being held. Honestly, Em…I know the hotel is a distance from the apartment, but it seems silly to book a hotel room in my own town. Yes…and I know, the apartment isn't really practical with Derek around. I was hoping_ _ **he'd**_ _be on shift the night of the Graduation Ball, but, no such luck." Casey walked to her bed and sat down. "Do you think the time is right?" She asked nervously. "I mean…I know it's not the_ **first** _time for me, but after the_ **last** _time…I'm still not sure."_

 _From her own apartment several hundred miles away, Emily sighed._

 _"Casey, not every guy is an asshole like your ex. It's been three years since you caught him cheating and a girl has needs. I'm just surprised Gavin managed…I mean,_ you **both** _…managed to wait so long. Six months of hand-holding…"_

 _Casey blushed. "Hand-holding? I'm not a prude, Emily. He doesn't…want for…anything. I just…it was just…I couldn't…"_

 _"I get the message, Casey. You don't need to spell it out."_

 _They both giggled nervously._

 _"And what about Derek?" Emily asked, more to change the subject than anything._

 _"What about Derek?" Casey was confused._

 _Emily sighed. "Does he still have reservations about Gavin?"_

 _Casey picked at her duvet. "Derek's never liked any of my boyfriends – except Sam and that was only because he was Derek's best friend first. These days I don't bother introducing him. Derek's never met Gavin and I don't think I've told Gavin much about Derek."_

 _"And then of course you get on SO well with his girlfriends…" Emily said in amusement._

 _Casey shrugged, unseen. "Actually, I do try to, because it annoys the hell out of him when I do. But, Layla…She was a step too far. That was just obviously Derek trying to wind me up."_

 _Emily chuckled. "You guys…" She chided. "One day, when you two have met your life partners and had children, you will need to bury this whole feud thing."_

* * *

 _Casey was having a quiet Saturday night in when the phone rang._

" _Casey, it's Jazz." Derek's friend sounded distant, off even as though something was wrong. Casey couldn't tell if it was the message he was about to convey, or the quality of the phone line._

 _A cold shiver of fear ran down her spine._

 _"Tell me." She gasped and sat down heavily._

 _Jazz snorted. "Don't panic. His patrol car got rammed by a joyrider. He's walking wounded and being checked out at the ER now, but they wouldn't let him use his phone to call you. There's a queue a mile long, as it's Saturday night, so we'll be a while. He's going to be late home. Apparently, Derek seems to think you might worry, so he asked me to call."_

 _Casey let her heartbeat return to normal. She swallowed hard._

 _"Thanks, Jazz. Tell him…"_

 _Jazz smiled softly. "Tell him 'learn to drive'?" He guessed._

 _Casey chuckled. "Something like that."_

 _Several hours later, the door to the apartment opened softly, but Casey didn't hear. The living room was empty and only one light was on. Tired and more than a little bruised, Derek pulled a face. Clearly sororal concern had a limited shelf-life. He winced as he threw his rucksack onto the couch and turned to lock the front door. Whiplash and some bruising from the seatbelt had been the verdict. Paracetamol and rest had been the prescribed treatment._

 _Yeah, like it took a medical degree to diagnose that! He thought of the hours wasted in the ER._

 _Derek moved towards his bedroom, turning off the light as he passed. He and Jazz had raided the vending machine at the hospital for a snack, so he wasn't hungry. All he needed was bed. He'd wanted sympathy too, but clearly… he glanced towards Casey's bedroom door. It was closed and he wondered if she was alone, or even in the apartment. He had been disappointed when she wasn't waiting in the living room. He kind of liked it when she played the concerned step-sister._

 _Big emphasis on the "STEP"._

 _When he reached his bedroom, it wasn't empty. Casey was lying on his bed, sound asleep. She looked peaceful, beautiful and he leaned against the door post and watched her for a moment. It was not the first time she had slept in his bedroom, and he reminded himself of the hours after he had shot the cop-killer. It had been less than a year ago, but it felt like forever in Derek and Casey terms. Then they hadn't slept overnight in the same bed, just a few hours during a stressful day, but he remembered waking up beside her, and how for a moment he'd wanted her presence to be something more than just that of a nosey sibling._

 _He remembered the way she had gently freed herself from his side, dislodging his lips from her hair, and the way she had lifted herself up to look at him, with genuine concern – and, if allowed himself a little wishful thinking, maybe something else._

 _Now, back in reality, Derek quickly went to the bathroom and quietly readied himself for sleep. Returning to his bedroom and donning pyjamas, he slipped into bed beside Casey. She was still on top of the covers and he considered how to pull the duvet out from under his errant step-sister without waking her._

 _He was still pondering when she spoke._

" _Are you okay?" She asked sleepily._

" _Sore." Derek spoke quietly, not wanting to break the spell. "I'll live."_

 _Casey smiled. "Good. Thank you for getting Jazz to call me." She tried blinking herself awake. "It's late. I should…"_

 _Derek put a hand on her shoulder as she started to sit up._

" _Don't." He urged. "You can stay in my bed tonight." Casey looked at him quizzically. "Please, sweetheart. I'd like the company."_

 _Casey climbed off the bed and for a moment he thought she was voting with her feet. Instead, she pulled back the duvet and climbed into bed beside him. As she rested her head back on the pillow, Derek turned off the bedside light._

" _Are you sure you're okay?" Casey asked in the darkness. "The last time we slept next to each other…"_

"… _I needed counselling. I know!" Derek joked._

" _Idiot." Casey chided, but her voice was gentle in the dark. Derek shuffled closer and turned to face her._

" _I just…" He began, and then immediately stopped, rolling onto his back in frustration. What did he say? How should he describe his reasoning? Because to Casey, surely there would be no reason at all in his actions._

 _In the pitch black, Casey chuckled softly. "Yes…" She sighed. "Me too." Then it was her turn to shuffle as she turned to face Derek and he felt her head rest on his shoulder._

" _Let's get some sleep."_

* * *

 **Derek was dreaming memories too. Memories from THE day. When nothing really happened, yet everything changed.**

 _"So, tonight's the big night." Jazz announced expansively, a couple of weeks after Derek's whiplash._

 _Derek frowned as he sat down in the cafeteria with his coffee and bagel, it was officially brunch time, however, they were ten hours into an eight-hour shift, and due to a wave of flu making short work of the tour schedule, they still had six hours to go._

 _"Big night?" Derek queried. Jazz nodded._

 _"Casey's graduation ball. The one where she gets the award for hottest newly qualified vulture."_

 _Derek pulled a face and munched on the food in front of him._

 _"Please, I'm trying not to think about it."_

 _Jazz looked taken aback. "Why? I thought you'd be happy about having the apartment to yourself for the evening."_

 _Derek shook his head. "Always." He lied. "…except when it means that Casey is holed up in a hotel with a 'GAV-in'. Honestly, the guy's a class A jerk and not only does she want to go to this dance thing with him, but she's booked a hotel room for the 'after party'."_

 _"What 'after party'?"_

 _Derek threw Jazz a pointed look. Jazz was enlightened._

 _"OK, suboptimal, I grant you. How do you know?"_

 _Derek shrugged. "Email confirmation flashed up on her iPad while it was sitting on the breakfast table in front of me."_

 _Jazz pulled a face. "I guess being forced to consider your sister's sex life is a little toe-curling."_

 _"STEP-sister. And toe-curling isn't the word. Can we change the subject? I'm not really in the mood for sex."_

 _"Sure. Have you seen the new girl in forensics?"_

 _"Jazz…"_

* * *

 _Returning from the shift from hell, Derek knew something was up as soon as he exited the lift outside his apartment. It was too quiet. It was 4.30pm the afternoon of the Ball. By now, Casey would normally have cranked up the volume on her favourite playlist and be halfway through a mani-pedi, whilst wearing gunk on her face that looked like something Derek would eat with tortilla chips. Instead, the corridor was almost silent, just a crying baby somewhere in the distance. No sound of Casey music. Something had clearly gone wrong._

 _He was right. When he entered the apartment, Casey was sitting on the couch watching Judge Judy. Her hair was clearly not in the predicted "up-do", nor did she bear any resemblance to Shrek's wife. Derek frowned and checked his watch._

 _"I miss something?" He asked. "Aren't you supposed to be mid-wax and cuticle trim by now?"_

 _Casey didn't look at him. "I'm not going." Her voice was thick with emotion._

 _After seven years under the same roof, Derek knew Casey and her moods. Her tone of voice now rang alarm bells. Derek tossed his rucksack into a corner and came around the couch to sit beside her._

 _"What did the bastard do?"_

 _Casey said nothing for a moment, but he could see her finger nails were digging into the palms of her hands._

 _"I think this might be a new low for me – dating-wise." Casey commented with false brightness. "Something I'm sure I'll laugh about in ten years' time, but…not right now."_

 _"Go on…" Derek urged._

 _"Gavin isn't taking me to the Ball tonight…Because he's now engaged to one of my classmates."_

 _Derek's eyes widened. Yup! Class A jerk. "Since when?!"_

 _Casey sighed. "That's the billion-dollar question! Apparently, they dated at college and have been on hiatus for a while, but recently started getting closer again. Which is the first I've heard of it."_

" _Maybe you were a re-bound?"_

 _She looked at him then and he saw the hurt in her eyes. "She's three months pregnant, Derek. He's been sleeping with her the whole time he's been seeing me."_

 _Derek rested his head back on the couch. A+++ Jerk! "Oh crap! That's a lot of bounce."_

" _How do I do it? How do I manage to pick such complete losers?"_

" _Sam wasn't a loser, neither was Max…a football player, but not a loser." He paused. "You should…erm…get checked out."_

 _Casey closed her eyes as the tears began. "Not technically necessary in the way you mean, but, yes, I've made an appointment for Monday morning."_

 _Derek put an arm around her shoulders. Casey moved closer and let him comfort her. "Sorry. You didn't need this after a double shift."_

" _No problem."_

 _They were quiet for a moment, then Derek sat up._

" _Hang on! Weren't you supposed to be getting an award or something tonight?"_

 _Casey sighed. "Yes. But it doesn't matter. There's no way I can go! Gavin and his fiancée will be there. It's her father who's presenting the awards."_

" _Correction! There is no way you can miss it! Nora would never forgive me if I let you stay at home. You're going."_

 _Casey sat up straight, her eyes flashing. "I'm not going to humiliate myself, Derek, however much you like the idea! I can't go to the ball on my own, I'd look like Billy-no-mates."_

 _Derek sighed. "So, find someone else to go with. Surely there's a Tinker in your Law class?"_

" _No. And as if that would be fair!"_

" _Jessie?"_

" _On tour. And before you say it, everyone on my course partnered up months ago. I'll just have to stay here. They can post me my award."_

" _Then he wins, Casey. They win. He gets to play fast and loose with the truth - and you. You won that award, you deserve to collect it. Come on! What would your mom say if she knew that you gave up that trophy – that moment - for a guy?"_

" _She would understand. She wouldn't want me humiliated either."_

" _But she'd be disappointed."_

" _I'm disappointed, Derek."_

 _Derek sighed and looked at his watch. "It's nearly five." He told her. "What time does the thing start?"_

" _7.30pm." Casey told him. "The drinks bit. Dinner's at 8pm."_

" _Two and a half hours." He mused._

 _There was silence for a moment and then Derek stood up. "Right! I'm off to bed!" He announced. Casey frowned. She'd been expecting more of a fight and part of her was a little annoyed he was bailing on her._

" _You're going to bed?" She checked. Derek was halfway to his bedroom._

" _Yup!" He yawned. Casey blinked and looked down at her hands. "I've been on shift for sixteen hours, Casey. I'm exhausted."_

" _Oh." It was a valid point. He had given her a hug, after all. In Derek terms, that was akin to the donation of an organ._

 _Derek smiled as he watched the emotions play across her face. "I've been on my feet for sixteen hours…So, if you want me to take you to this ball thing, I need a couple of hours sleep first. Wake me at 7." And then he was gone._

 _Casey blinked._

* * *

 _Something had happened to Casey's style of dress since Derek last truly looked at her. Sure, she'd always been pretty, and it had always been difficult to be around her and not betray the effect she had on him. While they had lived at home, however, Casey's wardrobe choices had been tempered by the presence of Nora, who allowed her eldest daughter flexibility with fashion, but only up to a point. The clothes Casey had chosen in the past had an innocence about them, pink, comfortable, practical. Even Casey's prom dresses had been pastel, floaty and fairy tale-like. Pretty, but they screamed "Innocent! Respect me!"._

 _Since Queen's however, she had adopted a more professional look with her wardrobe, less dance student (though that was still a big part of her life), more law student. Occasionally, during moot court, she wore suits and on nights out with Gavin, smart shift dresses. Often in pink, but more frequently in black, red or blue._

 _Derek hadn't noticed the more subtle changes during that time, but he noticed the change tonight. When he emerged from his bedroom at 7.15pm, Casey was standing in the kitchen waiting for him. Her dress was blue, tight and with a silvery sheen that brushed her curves, accentuating rather than camouflaging. Her hair appointment had been missed, so her hair was bouncing in waves on her shoulders rather than swept up onto her head. Gone was the glittery eyeshadow of her teen years, replaced with smoky blues and greys. Her lips had lost the gloss he was used to and were now a deep plum in matt._

 _Derek swallowed hard._

" _You look…wow!" He admitted, unable to take his eyes from her face._

 _Casey smiled. "Over the top, I guess, but…"_

"… _this evening is about making a point to Gavin." Derek finished for her. They chuckled together softly. He stepped towards her and put an arm around her waist, pressing a kiss in her hair._

" _He's going to be sick as a dog the moment he sets eyes on you."_

 _Casey smiled her thanks, coughed and straightened. "You look pretty good too." She told Derek. "New tux?"_

" _Nora's idea. I think she was worried I was going to turn up at formals wearing either Dad's dinner jacket or my dress uniform. Now, I get to rock the 007 look."_

" _It suits you." Casey told him, honestly. Derek ran his hand through his hair._

" _I probably should have had a haircut." He told her. "Sorry."_

 _Casey patted his arm. "You didn't have time, and I'm just happy you are coming with me to this thing. The idea of going on my own…" She pulled a face. "This was a good idea of yours. Did you manage to sleep?"_

" _Two solid hours. I've never had a problem sleeping, and after a double shift, it's even easier."_

" _Two hours isn't long."_

 _Derek shrugged. "It will be enough to get me through tonight. I've got tomorrow off and then I'm on days from Monday."_

 _Casey looked thoughtful. "If you get really tired you can go up to the hotel room." She told him. "I thought it would be easier to just stay there tonight rather than get a cab home. If you can cope with us sharing." She motioned towards the overnight bag she had packed. "Do you want to grab a toothbrush?"_

 _Derek walked back to his room to pack a few things, but his mind was on other matters. Casey – that dress – hotel room – that dress – Casey._

 _Casey._

 _He took a deep breath. Tonight, was going to be hard…but also a lot of fun._

* * *

 _They reached the room where the drinks reception was taking place ten minutes before they were due to take their seats in the main ballroom for dinner. Checking into the hotel had been straightforward and they had managed to avoid seeing Gavin or his fiancée. They did however, see many expensive suits, evening dresses and necklaces. As well as the newly qualified lawyers, the great and the good of Toronto's legal system were clearly out in force. Now as they stood sipping champagne watching the cream of the Law school mixing with their professors and the school's alumni, the fun element of the evening evaporated, and Derek suddenly felt out of place. He glanced at Casey, law graduate, rising star, with all her dreams still achievable - and realised they were moving towards different worlds. He sighed and took a gulp of his wine._

 _"What's up?" Casey asked quietly, sensing his discomfort._

 _Derek scratched the hair at the back of his head in a way she'd seen him do as a teenager when confronted with a situation he didn't feel he could control. There hadn't been many, but they had existed._

 _"I'm feeling a little like the poor relation." He admitted, reluctantly. Casey frowned at him._

" _Meaning?"_

 _"Meaning I'm a washed-out hockey player-turned-cop standing in a room full of people who have, do or will earn seven figure salaries. My suit is worth a fraction of what most of the guys in here paid for theirs – I suspect my month's salary would only just pay for their clothes - and I'm really hoping no one asks me what I do for a living." He paused. "Then there's you…smart, qualified, beautiful…Like I said, I'm the poor relation."_

 _Casey laughed. "That's ridiculous, Derek! We both know that not everyone who qualifies as a lawyer ends up earning top salaries. Look at George."_

 _"That's irrelevant I'll still never earn what dad earns. You will."_

 _Casey frowned. "Seriously? You want our salaries to be a competition between us?"_

 _"No…but what happens when you want a better apartment and move out? You think I can afford to keep up our current apartment on my own?"_

 _"Then you can move into my new one."_

 _"And not pay_ _half_ _the rent? …not happening."_

 _She sighed and put a hand on his arm. "Derek, the money is irrelevant. You are a decorated serving officer in a highly respected police force. These people couldn't do their job without you. You are kind, brave and honest - which is more than some of my profession – and you keep our streets safe. You're loyal, funny," She grinned. "…and I bet every woman in this room has looked twice at you in your "cheap" suit – which will be full of pieces of paper with their phone numbers on it by the end of the evening."_

 _Derek raised an eyebrow. "_ _ **Every**_ _woman?" He asked in amusement. He meant her._

 _Casey's eyes met his. "Every woman." She confirmed as they watched each other carefully. Had she ever admitted an attraction before today? He couldn't remember._

 _"Did my ears fail me or did you pay me a compliment." He quizzed her. "Several in one breath. That's the second time tonight."_

 _"_ _ **You**_ _called_ **me** _beautiful. You said I was 'smart, qualified and beautiful'." Casey retorted. They stared at each other until the gong rang for the guests to take their seats. Pulling his gaze from Casey, Derek slid an arm around her shoulders and led her to the ballroom. As he walked, he leaned closer to her._

" _Don't worry, I'm sure it's just a brain fart and we'll be back to normal in the morning."_

" _It's ok. Just…Distract me tonight, please."_

 _Derek pulled her closer and planted a kiss on her cheek. "Seems only fair, since you're already distracting me."_

 _She laughed gently back at him. "Wow! Does that line usually work?" She teased._

" _Clearly not on Step-sisters." He admitted._

 _As beginnings went, it was gentle. That night, Derek turned Casey's heartache over Gavin around. He sat beside her, made friends with her friends, clapped proudly as she received the award and when the dancing started, allowed her to pull him onto the dancefloor, so that he could subject the great and the good to "the hook", "the zombie" and various other Derek dance moves. Casey found herself enjoying the evening in ways she never would have expected. She felt relaxed, safe and happy._

 _It was all Derek's fault._

 _The music on the dancefloor slowed, but rather than lead Casey to their seats, Derek slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her dramatically into his arms. Casey found herself giggling as they moved to the music. Derek had a unique dancing style, but somehow it worked._

" _Thank you." She spoke above the music. "Tonight is good."_

 _Derek snorted. "Of course. I don't do bad dates."_

 _She laughed. "Even with your step-sister?"_

 _He acknowledged the point with a shrug of his shoulders, before whirling her dramatically around, nearly wiping out the nearest couple. Casey giggled even more._

 _Later, as they sat on the hotel terrace drinking a coffee to keep Derek awake, Casey wondered why she hadn't asked Derek to take her to the ball in the first place. He'd been the perfect date, he'd been considerate, attentive and even now his jacket was around her shoulders._ _Without words, Derek had reminded Casey what love really felt like and by the end of the evening, Gavin would be forgotten._

" _You're quiet." Derek commented, putting down his coffee cup and turning towards her. Casey sighed softly, but she also smiled._

" _Tomorrow, when our little bubble of co-operation bursts…" She told him. Derek chuckled and looked across into the hotel gardens._

" _Sounds about right." He agreed turning his gaze back to her. Casey looked away for a moment too and then looked back at him, and he lost himself somewhere deep in blue eyes._

"… _when you do that whole 'yank the rug out from under Casey' thing that you usually do…"_

 _Derek swallowed. "It's not always me." He complained, then he tilted his head to one side. "Ok, so the dramatic pull-backs, usually are me, I get that. You tend to just walk away."_

 _Casey fingered the cufflinks on his shirt. "Tomorrow will be down to you, Derek." She murmured. Derek closed his eyes briefly, but Casey didn't notice. Derek pulled his jacket closer around her shoulders in a bid to get her to look at him._

"… _this time, Derek. Please, can you do it gently?"_

 _And then she did look up at him and her heart was in her eyes._

 _Derek had to look away._

 _They shared a hotel room that night._

 _Nothing happened._

 _Except, tired though he was, Derek lay beside Casey and listened to her plans for the future. The life she hoped for, the family she needed, the career she thought she wanted. Gently he teased her, but he couldn't fault her ideals. When he shared with her his own plans, they surprised Casey. Gone was the arrogance and the grand schemes, to be replaced with an ideal she truly got. Despite his teasing, his life plan wasn't so different from her own._

* * *

 _It took Casey a week to realise that Derek hadn't yanked the rug out from under her in a dramatic end to their date. Instead, he appeared to have started pressing a kiss on her cheek when he left for work, started texting her during his lunch break and, most tellingly of all, now he had started kissing the back of her neck when she was in the kitchen or working at the dining table. The latter action made her giggle, though she didn't reciprocate._

 _Then another Toronto cop was killed on duty. A car crash, rather than anything more criminal, however, and Casey had seen the story on the news before Derek made it through the front door. She had time to think. Time to decide that life was too short._

 _The Derek who came through the door that evening had had a bad day. A bad shift and halfway through, a colleague had lost their life. Not someone from his own station, not someone he knew. Just another cop._

 _He and Jazz had grabbed a quick beer after their shift, but neither of them said much. Just raised their beer bottles and chinked for a fellow cop, who neither of them knew. A good man not going home to his family, this evening._

 _Jazz had mentioned a club, half-heartedly. Derek declined. Jazz nodded his agreement and muttered something about phoning home. Despite everything, Jazz was close to his mom and just lately she hadn't been feeling too great._

 _Derek had grabbed his coat and headed for the door. His own mom wouldn't understand if he called her, thought they weren't estranged. Likewise, Nora and George would be puzzled if he reached out to them. Talking to Marti, Edwin or his other siblings would just worry them._

 _Derek went home to Casey._

 _No one else would have realised Casey was waiting. She was sitting at the dining table surrounded by piles of law text books, studying. She barely lifted her head from the work. Except, Derek knew her. This was Casey fretting about him. She wasn't out. She wasn't in her room. She was waiting by the front door. Waiting for Derek._

 _As he entered the room, they stared at each other._

" _I'm sorry." Casey immediately told him. "Did you know him?"_

 _Derek shook his head. "No, but I could so easily have done." He paused as he took off his shoes. "I'd have been home sooner, but Jazz and I needed a beer."_

" _Hungry?" Casey asked, anticipating the answer._

 _Derek nodded with a tired smile. "Of course."_

 _She fed him. A warm, soothing casserole and Derek ate every bit. Casey took the plates from the table and walked back to the kitchen. Derek followed and when Casey straightened from loading the dishwasher, she felt his arms slip around her waist, and the gentle kiss on the back of her neck._

" _Thank you." He murmured against her skin._

 _Usually, Casey would shrug, Derek would release her, and they would move apart a safe distance._

 _Tonight, Casey turned in his arms and leaned back against the kitchen worktop, pulling Derek towards her._

" _It could have been you." She noted quietly._

" _Statistically, I'm more likely to get runover by a bus on my day off." He reassured her. "Life is dangerous. It's not just about my job."_

 _Casey nodded. "I know. Doesn't make waiting for you to come home from your shift any easier."_

 _Derek acknowledged the point by tightening his arms around her. This prolonging of their embrace wasn't normal. He was curious._

" _I don't sound very much like your annoying step-sister, right now, do I?"_

 _He smiled. "I don't think you have for a whil…"_

 _Derek's words broke off as Casey kissed him on the lips. For a moment he was stunned. Then he began to kiss back._

 _Eventually, he rested his forehead against hers._

" _Why? Why now?" he asked gently._

" _Because tonight I can. Maybe one night I won't be able to." She replied equally gently. He kissed her briefly again, lifted his hands to cup the back of her head as they kissed and then she knew everything had changed. Casey smiled shyly._

" _How long do you give this?" He asked eventually when the kissing slowed again._

 _Casey laughed. "Two weeks before we get bored. A month at the outside."_

 _Derek pulled her into a tight, affectionate hug. "Only as long as that?" He joked, kissing her on the top of her head. "We'd better get some more kissing in now, while we still have time!"_

* * *

 _Two weeks later, Casey got the all-clear from the Sexual Health clinic following Gavin's betrayal. Casey and Derek marked the occasion with a bottle of champagne and a day in bed, proving to each other how bored they really were with their relationship._

 _When a month was up, Casey moved permanently into Derek's bedroom, and Derek used the 'L' word for the first time, and by six months, they began to think about telling their family, though by nine months, they had both chickened out._

 _Which was unfortunate, because nine months into their relationship, Derek realised Casey was pregnant._

" _I'm sorry." Casey murmured as they lay in bed a few nights after the positive test – when the reality of the situation had sunk in. Derek frowned._

" _Don't be. Our goals are still our goals, we just shuffled them a little."_

 _Casey kissed him soundly on the lips. "Aw! That was so sweet, Derek!"_

 _He snorted. "Yeah…it was! Gah! I blame the hormones!" They looked at each other and giggled. "Mini-Derek." He commented and squeezed her close to him. "I rather like the idea of that."_

" _Really?" Casey asked nervously. "Being a father is going to curtail your social life."_

 _He shook his head and deadpanned. "Nah. Chicks dig guys with babies. It makes us seem all…cute and cuddly. The little guy will be a babe magnet."_

 _Casey narrowed her eyes at him. "You are not using my child as a pick up tool, Venturi."_

" _It would make our bed rather crowded if I started bringing home random women, wouldn't it?" He grinned and then Derek brushed Casey's hair away from her eyes. "The baby is a surprise, sweetheart. It doesn't follow that it's an unpleasant one. Let's face it, our relationship is a surprise. Neither of us thought it would last this long, and it's not diminishing in any way. I think our future just got a little brighter."_

* * *

 **Toronto - Middle of the night - Current Day**

Casey woke with a start and fresh tears on her cheeks. She sat bolt upright in bed and pulled her knees to her chest. Derek stirred beside her, concerned.

"What?" He asked sleepily.

Casey turned to look at him and smiled sadly. "Now I remember everything."


	17. Chapter Seventeen - Healing

**Chapter Seventeen – Healing**

The airport terminal was quiet, but there were still a few people milling around aimlessly, clearly waiting for flights containing loved ones, because no one would choose this time of night to fly for business. George Venturi enjoyed the unexpected peacefulness and the lack of tension in the air – a complete contrast to home. For a while he had considered bringing Marti or Edwin with him to collect Lizzie, but then common sense had prevailed. He had no desire to spend any length of time being ganged up on by the two middle Venturis, particularly while driving. Instead he had insisted on going by himself to meet the flight - and take his chances with the one MacDonald female.

Lizzie emerged from air-side fairly quickly. Dressed in jeans, a jacket and a t-shirt with a slogan he didn't understand, she'd brought a carry-on rather than a large suitcase, and she'd clearly not hung around being polite as they disembarked. She approached George with confidence, which was slightly surprising, since the last two times they had spoken had been over the phone whilst negotiating Lizzie's release from custody.

"George."

"Lizzie."

There was a pause. Then Lizzie stepped forward and hugged her step-father.

"Thank you." She spoke honestly. "You're one in a million, step-dad."

Taken aback, George grinned broadly. "Was this because I stayed up to pick you up at midnight…or?"

Lizzie laughed. "No. A cab would have done. I meant 'thank you' for springing me from the joint. You realise, of course, that whilst my dad could also perform that service, he no longer takes my calls. Something about me learning from my mistakes."

George shrugged. "I guess he doesn't understand that to learn from your mistakes you have to make mistakes." He pointed out. "Expressing a deeply-held belief is not a mistake."

Lizzie pulled a face. "Unless that deeply-held belief is contrary to big business and will harm your father's reputation." She pointed out.

"I'm sure that's not what he really feels." George tried, weakly.

Lizzie shrugged. "Yeah. Right." She was realistic. Her father's viewpoint was less about her moral character and more about how it made him look. George, on the other hand, listened when Lizzie explained why she behaved the way she did.

George sighed. "Nora tells me I have a higher tolerance than your dad. I blame Derek." It was a standard family mantra.

Lizzie grinned. "Most of us do." She paused. "How _is_ life in the MacDonald-Venturi residence?"

George tilted his head to one side. "Which one?" He asked, pointedly and motioned towards the exit.

Lizzie grinned. "Let's start with the truly blended family." She suggested as they walked towards the car. "We can move onto the Tricky Twins later."

After a few steps, her stepfather took her wheeled suitcase from her and they walked side by side.

"Well, let's just say the last time things were anywhere near this bad was…actually, I don't know. Casey's car crash was bad – fucking awful," Lizzie raised an eyebrow at the unusual curse from the relatively mild-mannered man. "But everyone was on the same side. Right now, I'm feeling a little ganged up on." George paused as they reached the elevator. "I'm hoping you're going to be the voice of reason."

Lizzie nodded. "I won't judge too harshly. Let's get to the car and then you can start at the beginning."

* * *

"The beginning." George began as he drove out of the parking lot. "I don't really know when that was. I mean, do you start talking about the day I met your mother? Or Casey's accident? Or…when… Lizzie? You know your sister and your mother best."

"Tell me about the last few weeks. When did things change at home?"

George negotiated the exit of the airport and turned the car towards their house. Traffic was light, which was good as he needed to concentrate on what he was saying to Lizzie. He was tired, but also looking forward to some air-clearing. The biggest bombshell was going to have to wait until they were all together, however. Casey had insisted.

"You know Casey has been doing really well." It was a statement. They had all noticed.

Lizzie nodded. "Considering what her prognosis was five years ago, yes."

George sighed, anticipating Lizzie's next comment. "Your mom has struggled with Casey's recovery. She's expected a setback right from the start, and it's led her to be over cautious." He flicked his eyes to his stepdaughter and then back to the road. "You don't have to say anything. I know what you guys think. She's been over protective…and yes, it's held Casey back a little."

"No comment."

"You have to understand, Lizzie. Your mom nearly lost her daughter. It was traumatic for all of us, but especially for your mom."

"And, also Derek, I think." Lizzie pointed out. "He didn't handle it so good in the beginning."

"Yes…and Derek." George frowned at the comment. "What do you know about Derek?"

Lizzie shrugged. "Nothing. Except, after his hockey injury he became a lot less…and a lot more…"

Derek's father chuckled. "Yeah exactly."

"And, those few years where Casey and Derek shared an apartment knocked a few edges off their relationship."

"You could say that."

Lizzie narrowed her eyes. "Have they admitted to it being more than that?!" She asked, and George didn't miss the hope in her voice.

George decided not to answer her question. Instead, he moved on to more of the current situation.

"Derek has this case." He explained. "It involves Casey around the time of her accident." Lizzie nodded her understanding.

"The murder?" She asked. George nodded.

"You knew he was working on a murder?"

"He told me he was going to an autopsy and then they mentioned it when they were in Quebec. Something about some girl Casey used to know and a guy in Quebec who might have answers."

"I don't know the specifics. Derek caught the case, there was some connection to Casey, so she's been helping him." George scratched his head. "She's improved, Lizzie. Out of nowhere, this case has your sister walking without a cane, ditching her meds and not wearing her panic alarm. She looks amazing, is churning out quality legal work like she used to, and…"

"…and now she's talking about moving in with Derek." Lizzie completed. George shook his head.

"No. She's already moved in with Derek."

Lizzie's eyes widened. "Since when?"

"Since this afternoon. She's been buying things for the apartment over the last few days and when Derek found Casey this afternoon, she was at his apartment. She had a key, apparently."

"Wow! Progress?"

George paused. "Lizzie. I know you've come home because of today's events. And I know you are desperate for answers, but Casey has made us promise not to tell you what is going on until you, Marti and Edwin are all together."

"But they are at the house, yes?"

"Marti and Ed are, but you won't see Casey and Derek until the morning."

Lizzie nodded. "George. Robbie told me some of the stuff he'd overheard. How Casey went to see her consultant, and she disappeared afterwards." George pulled a face at the memory of earlier that day. "Is Casey sick?"

George shook his head. "No. It's all in the past, honestly. It's just…look. I can't say anything more. Not until we get home."

Lizzie didn't have any option but to accept his words.

"And Casey. She's safe tonight?" Her sister checked.

George smiled. "I don't really want to consider what your sister is up to tonight…But, she couldn't be safer!"

* * *

"Everything?" Derek asked, concerned at Casey's exclamation. He was wide awake now. He pushed himself up from the pillow and slipped his arms around Casey. She took a deep breath and leaned back against him.

"Derek? Did we plan Charlie? I seem to remember that Charlie wasn't a massive shock."

Derek smiled against her neck and pressed a soft kiss. "In some ways, yes."

Casey turned and looked at him. "It just all happened a bit too soon." She offered.

He nodded. "You had a plan." He informed her. "With a timescale and everything."

Casey groaned. "Sorry." But Derek laughed.

"Believe me, neither of us was complaining. And I'm not being fair. It was a plan we agreed. If things had gone to plan, Charlie would be arriving right about now. I used to tease you that it was _your_ five-year plan." He brushed her hair from her face. "The reality was it was _our_ five-year plan. Then you got tonsillitis."

Casey frowned. "Tonsillitis?"

Derek nodded. "Three-week course of antibiotics. Apparently, they didn't clear your system quickly enough. You started to feel better a little too quickly…We…erm…" he gave her a pointed look."

"The Pill didn't work." She concluded.

Derek sighed. "Everything was going ridiculously well between us. We got complacent. I think there was…"

She nodded, "…even a moment when one of us pointed out the risk and we said…"

"Screw it!"

Casey snorted. "Actually, I think your exact words were 'screw it or screw you?'"

Derek frowned. "I'm sure it was you who said that."

She rolled her eyes. "Seriously, Derek? Does that sound like the kind of thing I would say? It's crass and inaccurate and…"

He smirked. "You see, your words would have weight, except I remember some of the stuff you used to mutter in the heat of the moment!"

Casey blushed.

"Should I remind you?"

"We were…keen." She confirmed. Derek kissed her neck.

"We were definitely on the same wavelength." He agreed and then he looked thoughtful. "Has that changed?"

Casey closed her eyes remembering some of the choice moments from earlier in the evening.

"Probably not." She murmured. Derek smiled gently and cuddled her close to him.

"For all that, it's never been just about sex, sweetheart. You know that! And I know the physical side tonight has a higher purpose, but, going on our recent track record, and despite appearances to the contrary, we are still very compatible."

Casey snuggled into his neck. "I concur."

* * *

Lizzie looked at the tired faces of her family before her.

"I should have got an earlier flight." She stated, looking accusatorily at Marti. Her step-sister, green hair today, shrugged.

"When I told you to hang fire, I was going on dud information from those on the ground." She stated, looking pointedly at Edwin who was feeling decidedly uncomfortable. The next few minutes looked like they were going to involve more emotional outbursts.

Edwin frowned. "Seriously? You wanted me to make an emotional judgement of how the land lay? And you've known me HOW long?"

George groaned. "Come on guys. Let's not get into it too much tonight. The sooner we talk about this the sooner I…I mean… _we all_ can go to bed."

Lizzie yawned. "You know, having just flown across Canada for this little meeting, can I just say, if this turns out to be about someone telling my sister she has bad breath, I'm going to be seriously pissed."

"You and me both." Edwin seconded. "It's entirely possible, however. Emotions do run rather strong in our family." He looked at George. "My father has them, I, ahem, may have them and my sisters have them."

"Cut the crap, Skywalker!" Marti hissed. She turned to Nora. "Nora, sweetie. I love you, and I've followed your conditions tonight…but what the fuck is going on?

There was silence and George felt sorry for his wife as all eyes in the room turned to look at her.

Edwin, Marti, Lizzie.

Robbie had been put to bed hours ago. He'd protested, but George had promised to fill him in tomorrow, when, hopefully the fur had stopped flying.

Nora sipped a glass of wine and placed it on the table before her.

"I'm not going to insult anyone's intelligence by asking if you remember what you were doing when we got the call." She began. No one asked, 'what call?'.

They all knew.

"We dropped everything and just drove as fast as we could to the hospital. I know you felt like we abandoned you guys in the waiting room." Nora cleared her throat. "I'm sorry about that." She muttered quietly.

George moved to sit next to her and took her hand in his own. Nora smiled weakly at him as she re-lived the worst night of her life.

"That night, amongst all the other horrors, the doctors told us something about Casey we hadn't known. It was…a shock, but before we could absorb it, she coded. They call it a 'Code Blue'. 'Immediate resuscitation needed'. For over an hour we thought we were going to lose her. George and I stayed as close to Casey as they would let us. You guys sat in the waiting room, forgotten and trying to cope. And Derek…don't let's forget it was Derek who got called to the crash site. Derek who found Casey's body. He screamed blue murder and then disappeared."

There was a long pause.

"When she came back to us and then came around from the coma, the new information the doctors had given us…it was irrelevant. Casey had forgotten it and so much else, and it seemed the wrong time to bring it up." Nora took a deep sigh. "We knew it would devastate her," Nora looked up at George. "Maybe even stop her will to live…"

George nodded. "So, we didn't tell her – or anyone else. And when the years passed and no one mentioned it, we thought the knowledge died that night in the crash."

Lizzie sat forward. "And today? I mean, yesterday? Someone mentioned it?'

Nora closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Casey went to see the consultant to get the all clear for driving again. New consultant, brisk, slightly arrogant. He gave Casey's medical notes a cursory glance and missed the instruction that said: "Do not discuss with client without instructing her next of kin first."

"The consultant overshared." Marti decided. Nora nodded.

"Casey has improved immeasurably over the past few months and weeks, but she still hadn't recovered all of her memory. I don't know what questions she asked, but he gave her information she had forgotten, and it was a big shock to her. Devastated, Casey ran." Nora glanced at George. "I think, maybe, I would have done the same in her position." He nodded and continued the tale.

"Casey ran and, because we hadn't known that she was even seeing the consultant today, it took us a while to realise she was missing. When we did, the sensible thing to do was to phone Derek, because he is a cop – and also because he's always known Casey better than we have. Eventually, he found out what had happened and then tracked her down."

"To his apartment?" Lizzie asked. George nodded.

"Casey is still there, and Derek is with her. She's safe and well. Upset, but physically okay. She's not ill and is probably the healthiest she has been in five years. But today," he glanced at the clock. "… _yesterday_ was a shock, and Derek thinks she needs some space before she comes home and is able to talk about it. I think he is right, especially since you guys are a little intimidating right now – No offence."

Lizzie grinned as they heard George use a phrase so often used against him. Marti meanwhile sat forward.

"Nora?" She prompted.

Casey's mother sighed. "I know. I know. Ok…At the time of her accident, Casey was sixteen weeks pregnant. The baby didn't survive the crash." She paused to give them chance to absorb her words.

There was no dramatic gasp or cry, just a glance between the siblings, step and full. Marti stood up and crossed to Lizzie, perched beside her and took her step-sister's hand. Edwin swallowed hard.

"And Casey didn't remember about the baby?" He asked for confirmation. Nora shook her head and tears began to run down her cheeks. She explained, in sobs.

"At the time of the accident, when they first told me, I didn't believe it. But, later on, I spoke with her hospital consultant and he confirmed they had checked with her doctor. Casey knew she was pregnant before the crash. She'd had several scans. That was all they could tell me at the time. I wasn't allowed to see any of the information about the pregnancy, just allowed to know that it had existed."

Edwin looked across at his two sisters and realised, now tears were clearly flowing between them, neither of the girls was capable of speech. It fell to him to do the talking.

"And in all this time, the baby's father has never materialised? He's never shown any interest or concern in Casey's well-being or the well-being of their baby?"

George closed his eyes briefly and then turned to Nora who, through her tears smiled gently at her husband in encouragement.

"Casey's partner has not left her side in five years, Ed." George told his son. "He's been there through thick and thin. He's held onto their relationship even when she couldn't acknowledge it, he mourned their child even when she forgot the child had existed. He coaxed her back to health without pushing himself on her, he grieved when no one knew he was grieving. I have absolutely no idea how he got through the last five years in such a lonely situation, but he did…and I'm very, very proud of him."

Lizzie looked up. "Derek." She said simply. Nora nodded.

"He told us this afternoon when we revealed what we had kept from Casey. But, of course, he already knew." She took a deep breath. "When I think of what he's gone through over the past five years. The secrets he's kept, the pain he's hidden. And how he's been there for Casey every day for five years, without any hope of reciprocation…You know we used to berate Derek for being casual with his affections, for treating emotions with disdain, and sex as something to be taken for granted…but…" Words failed her.

Lizzie nodded. "When you look back on it now, it was all so obvious." She commented. "They've been a couple for a very long time."

Edwin snorted. "I'm sure there's a tale and a half there." They all chuckled sadly.

Marti looked up. "And they are together, tonight?"

George nodded. "I've no idea what the future holds for them, but Derek is the right person to get Casey through these first few days."

His only true daughter nodded.

"The tragic thing is, they would have been perfect parents. The right balance of fun and hard work."

Lizzie grinned at Marti.

"Dasey." She said simply.

* * *

"I have a confession to make." Derek told Casey softly in the dark. "I've been holding something back." And then, when he realised how that might sound, he elaborated. "Don't panic, I'm just working through all this in stages and this is the final part. You'll like it, I think."

Casey blinked as he turned on the light beside their bed. She winced.

"I think I might need to get a weaker bulb for that lamp." She commented. Derek smiled softly.

"S'ok. You'll want the light in a minute." He pulled back the duvet and climbed out of bed. Casey watched him leave the room, curious as to his actions, but still mindful of his nakedness and their actions earlier in the evening. He was both familiar and a stranger, yet even in the depths of their grief and despair, Casey knew her feelings for him had changed little over the years, strengthened if anything. The Derek she had fallen in love with six years ago was still there, passionate, stubborn, determined. But, this man, this Derek who the world had often written off as casual with his affections and dismissive of emotions, had dedicated the past five years to her well-being and care, though she had barely acknowledged their relationship. And through it all, he had held their love for their child in his heart when she didn't remember Charlie had existed. Casey blinked back tears again, but they were tears of love.

Derek returned from the lower floor with the box he had brought to the apartment. It was locked, because it was full of memories of their relationship which their family would not have understood: Birthday cards, photographs, keepsakes that would have said far too much to outsiders. Though they had conveniently lived in the same apartment during their relationship, they had still written notes to each other, notes full of love and promises. Derek had kept them all.

Casey gasped at the sight of things she had thought lost forever. She giggled over some items, blushed over others. Derek sat beside her in bed as they physically sorted through their relationship.

"The only thing I thought it was safe to leave you with was your necklace." Derek told her. "But there was no way I was getting rid of all of this." Casey met his gaze. "Some days looking through this was the only way I coped. If I'd known that you remembered us, I would have shared this with you earlier."

"Thank you." Casey pressed a kiss on his cheek and then returned to the box, drawing out a large padded envelope.

"Ah!" Derek plucked the envelope from her hands. "And this…this is the most important part of it all." He informed her. Casey frowned. Derek reached inside and withdrew some sheets of paper.

"Here is Charlie." He said simply and handed Casey a set of scan photographs.

Casey took the black and white images with shaking hands. Derek had looked after them and kept them from daylight, so they hadn't deteriorated the way photographic paper sometimes does.

There was Charlie.

Little more than a squiggle in the first few pictures, more discernible as a human being in the remaining pictures.

"I remember the first scan. Eight weeks, I think. To date the pregnancy." Casey told him, not letting her eyes move from the precious pictures. "Hearing the heartbeat, watching your face." She smiled at him. "You were so in love with the little shrimp."

And then Derek realised she really did remember, because 'Little shrimp' had been his nickname for the image on the screen.

There were scan pictures for twelve weeks and sixteen weeks, to coincide with particular milestones and pregnancy tests. All black and white. All labelled with Casey's name and 'Baby Venturi' in the corner.

"I'd forgotten you made them do that." Derek commented. "You were so determined that the baby was going to have my surname."

"I didn't want my child to grow up without knowing how proud of his father I was. Even if it meant we had a different surname."

Derek sighed. "You wouldn't have done." He told her. "I'd have got my act together."

They smiled sadly at each other, in memory of a life together, lost. Then Derek broke the spell.

"But," he announced. "The best is yet to come." He reached into the envelope and withdrew a parcel, wrapped in yellow baby paper. "This is for you." He told Casey.

And that was when he gave Casey the best Charlie picture of all: in sepia tones and 3D, the face of their baby.

"There's a DVD." Derek told her. "This is a still from it. Shall I put it on?"

Wordlessly, Casey had just nodded her head.

Later, once more in darkness, Casey cuddled closer to Derek.

"I think it's only fair to tell you," She told him with determination. "I'm going to fight for this – for us - until my last breath."

* * *

They were shy with each other the following morning. Showered and dressed in the same clothes as yesterday, though washed and dried overnight, they moved around each other in the kitchen with practiced ease, but they watched each other cautiously and gave small grins when their gaze did meet.

After breakfast, Casey stood at the large picture window in the living area and watched the rest of Toronto go about its business. Derek's arms slipped around her waist and his chin rested on her shoulder.

"Thank you." He murmured in her ear. "I never expected…this is a far better morning than I thought we would have."

Casey turned in his arms and regarded him with curiosity. "You expected me to react badly?" She queried.

"Not "badly", just with less…understanding of my motives."

She shrugged. "I'm your partner. We share the same grief. I don't believe your grief is less than mine. You are the other half of our child's equation. I can't honestly say I would have behaved differently. And even, if think I would have, I can't expect you to be predictable in your actions." She laughed. "Besides, be grateful you weren't there when I first found out. I wasn't quite so forgiving."

"I don't deserve you." Derek kissed her neck again.

"You've got that backwards." Casey turned her face to kiss his lips.

The doorbell rang at that point. Derek and Casey exchanged a glance, knowing exactly who was on the other side of the door.

"Rosa." Derek commented. Casey nodded.

"Let her in." But he wasn't sure if she meant open the door or let her into their personal little bubble.

* * *

They were quiet too on their journey to the family home. Absorbing the morning's session with Rosa, anticipating the family reaction to their news.

Rosa had been a bit of a shock. Things had gone so well between them since Casey had been reminded about the baby, they had both assumed Rosa would tell them there was little work to be done. But she had been all caution.

"This news hasn't sunk in yet, Casey. One day, maybe this week, next month, in two years…one day it will hit you like a sledgehammer. Right now, you are focussing on the positives, and that's the right thing to do - for now. But, at some point you will need to turn your attention to the negatives." She smiled at their concerned faces. "It's not something you should panic about. Derek has set you both on a good path, a sensible path. And Casey, your compassion is phenomenal. The way you are prepared to listen to Derek, to understand his motives. It gives me great optimism for your future. But don't be complacent. We have work to do, but if we get the ground work done right, when the full force of your grief hits, you will come through it – and I have every reason to believe you will come through it together. In time. Love is an amazing emotion but, understanding and compassion are what will carry you in the days, weeks and months to come." Then she chuckled. "Compassion, and if I'm reading you two correctly, a lot of sex."

As the car travelled along the road, Casey blushed at the memory of Rosa's words. Derek noticed.

"She's big on physical touch being a big healer is Rosa." Derek guessed correctly. "After your accident, she kept saying to me, 'squeeze her hand', 'brush your fingers against her cheek', 'hold Casey close'. 'Everyone else is treating her with kid gloves. Casey is deprived of touch. Whether she remembers the degree of your involvement or not, she knows you are in her life. She just wants you to show her true affection. I'm not saying be inappropriate or climb into bed with her, I'm saying, don't be the one who pulls away.' So, I didn't."

* * *

They pulled up outside the family home soon afterwards. Derek killed the engine and turned to Casey.

"Are you ready for this?" He asked softly.

Casey shrugged. "Not really, but it needs to be done."

" _Run between the raindrops_." Derek quoted.

Casey smiled. " _'If you want to see the sun_.' You and your rock lyrics." She teased and Derek looked impressed. Casey glanced over at the house. "Any idea what the family's reaction was last night?"

Derek shook his head. "Dad has been sticking to our rules." He said, sounding surprised. "Leaving us alone to deal with stuff."

Casey snorted. "Scared to call in case he interrupts something, more like."

Derek chuckled and pressed a kiss against her cheek. "Yeah, well. You and I know that was probably a good move." Casey rolled her eyes. "Come on, princess. Let's make this yesterday's news, so we can get on with introducing the fam to Charlie. That's the bit I'm looking forward to."

* * *

Robbie reached Casey before she was more than two steps from the car.

"Casey!" He called, joyfully. "You're home!"

Casey caught her youngest brother in her arms and squeezed him tightly.

"She is, little squirt." Derek confirmed, taking his laptop from the trunk of the car. "Have you been watching from the window all morning?" He slammed the trunk shut.

Robbie shook his head. "Not ALL morning." He insisted. "Mom made me help clean the house before you got here."

Casey and Derek exchanged another eye-roll. Derek shook his head with a grin. "What is it with you MacDonald females and your need to clean in times of stress?"

"Technically, Mom's not a MacDonald anymore, she's a Venturi. And I don't see you complaining that I clean up after you."

"I guess not. I'm not sure you really qualify as a MacDonald anymore, either." Derek pointed out. Casey raised an eyebrow.

"Meaning?"

Derek smiled at her and flung his free arm around her shoulders as they all walked to the house. "You know exactly what I mean. I'm fighting for us, too, sweetheart." He murmured into her ear.

Robbie may have been watching for them at the window, but the rest of the house wasn't. Instead, there was a council of war going on in Lizzie's room between their remaining siblings, and Nora and George were fussing over some sort of food preparation in the kitchen.

"I'm going to cry." Casey warned Derek as Robbie opened the front door. Derek kissed the top of her head.

"Gah! Tears!" He commented. She looked up at him. "Don't worry! I'm used to it."

"You cried last night." She pointed out. Derek shrugged.

"For you. My child's mother. I've cried all I'm going to in front of Dad and Nora. And I'm certainly not crying in front of Edwin. You can't change me that much, Casey."

"I wasn't trying to." She reassured him.

Robbie stood at the bottom of the stairs and hollered. "She's here!"

There was a cry from the kitchen and Nora ran through into the living room, closely followed by George. Before anyone else could get close to Casey, Nora had swept her eldest daughter into her arms and was sobbing loudly into her neck. Casey didn't notice. She was too busy crying into her mother's hair.

George and Derek stood and watched each other, and the thump of feet on the floor above heralded the imminent arrival of the rest of the family. As the others arrived, it was chaos. Everyone wanted to hug Casey, there were lots of tears, and questions were being shouted that no one was answering.

"They are going to be a while." George said close to Derek's ear after a few moments. "Let's go into the kitchen."

Derek nodded and followed his dad.

"Is Casey okay?" It was Edwin who spoke. He'd tagged along behind his older brother as he left the room. Once in the kitchen, they each leaned up against a work surface and waited for Derek to answer.

Derek shrugged. "Not really and according to the grief counsellor it's too early for it to have fully sunk in. But we'll get there. In the meantime, it's one day at a time."

There was an awkward silence.

"She's still talking to you then?" George asked pointedly. Derek gave a small smile and shifted his weight on his legs.

"Apparently so." More silence. Then Derek blew out a breath. "God, Dad! I thought I'd lost Casey all over again. That I would never find her, or that when I did, she would never forgive me for hiding the truth from her. I thought she'd deny…everything. There was never any sign that Casey still felt anything for me."

George started to make coffee, to give himself something to do with his hands and because he couldn't look at his son's face. He was used to confident Derek, cocky Derek, not the tortured soul before him.

"That's crap." Edwin interjected. "Anyone who has seen you two over the past five years knew that something was brewing. We just thought it was the beginning of a relationship, not the end."

George looked up. "End?" He queried, but his eyes were on Derek.

Derek shook his head and gave a small smirk. "Six years and still counting, it would appear." George smiled. His grin disappeared as he brought the coffee over to Derek and placed it on the work surface.

"And how are _you_ doing?" he asked. "What does the grief counsellor say about you?"

Derek closed his eyes and rubbed his face with his hands roughly. There was a long pause before he spoke. "She says, for five years I've concentrated on Casey and her well-being. That I've buried the grief rather than dealt with it. I guess in some ways she's right. Now it's about both Casey and I dealing with the loss of our baby – together." He groaned. "Dad, I've spent all fucking morning talking about loss and grief. I don't want to talk about it anymore. All I want – all Casey wants – all _we_ really want is tell you and Nora about our child, your grandchild. We need to introduce you to the little person who we lost."

The laptop was connected to the living room TV and the family, still wiping tears from red eyes, sat down to watch the DVD Derek had shown Casey in the early hours of the morning. Casey sat on the sofa, Derek perched on the arm beside her and they held hands tightly as he made ready to press 'play'.

"I know you all want to talk about the last five years, to think about the accident, grief and how Casey and I are coping." Derek announced. "God knows! We'll have time for that. But… before the accident, we had news to share. Some of the news we had known for nearly a year, some for just a few weeks. We kept it all quiet because we knew your first questions would be 'what next?'. For us the 'what next' involved us reworking our five-year plan. Because – and you may struggle to believe this - we had planned a future. In fact, we had planned so much we were going to come and see you guys the weekend after… Casey's crash to share all our news." Casey rubbed her thumb on the back of Derek's hand. "We've no idea how you would have felt about it all. We spent a long time discussing when would be the best time to…come clean."

Casey snorted. "By 'discussing' you mean full-on arguing."

"Now that I believe!" Edwin interjected. They all laughed nervously.

Derek coughed. "Six years ago, Casey and I realised that the most convenient way to keep fighting without annoying the people we were dating was to date each other. After the first successful date, we gave it two weeks, a month at the outside. Except, it worked, and…"

Casey grinned. "After about eight months, we started to talk about telling you." She nudged Derek. "We talked about telling you, and we talked about the future we wanted. We gave ourselves five years to get my career going, for Derek to make detective sergeant. We planned when we thought a family was the right time. Then we got scared and decided to keep quiet a little longer."

Derek took over. "Except our little family couldn't wait. Just as we started planning, we realised Casey was expecting a baby." He turned to his step-mother. "Just in case you feel like complaining about us not telling you, just remember, I dealt with all the hormonal morning sickness phase…alone. I've been punished enough."

"Der-ek!" Casey complained, elbowing him in the ribs. They looked at each other in sad amusement.

"We have pictures." Derek told them. "Scans over several weeks. But the best scan of all was a 3D scan in the days before Casey got hurt. We want to start with that." He paused. "Dad…"

"Mom…" Casey added and looked at Derek.

"Meet Charlie." They chorused.

Derek pressed play.


	18. Chapter Eighteen - Baby Steps

**Chapter Eighteen – Baby Steps**

"Anything new?" Jazz asked the following morning as he walked into the office and slung his suit jacket over the back of his chair. One of the other sergeants looked up from his desk.

"Just doughnuts." He commented, nodding towards the central desk. Jazz's eyes widened. Doughnuts in the office was a big deal.

"Doughnuts?! From who?" He exclaimed excitedly. The sergeant nodded in the other direction towards the glass-walled office where Derek was in conference with their boss. Jazz raised an eyebrow. "From Derek?"

"Only god knows, of course," the sergeant commented. "But I think Derek got laid last night."

* * *

"Doughnuts, huh?" Jazz said as they sat in the car watching the building in front of them.

"I stopped for coffee as you requested, and they screamed 'eat me'." Derek explained, dryly.

"Sanchez thinks it's because you got laid last night." Jazz told him, sipping at his coffee. Derek gazed out of the window and snorted.

"Really?!"

Jazz hummed an affirmative.

"Crap! He's a better cop than I thought." Derek said, turning back to Jazz with a smirk. Jazz's hand stopped mid-track and his coffee cup hung suspended an inch from his mouth. Then he recovered and took a slow sip.

"Your balls are on the line depending on how you answer this one, sunshine…please tell me Casey is also walking around with a stupid grin on her face this morning…"

"I wouldn't know…she was asleep when I left." Derek said it so matter-of-fact, but his eyes met Jazz's and there was a small grin on his face. He turned back to watching the building in front of them.

It had been almost twenty-four hours since they had introduced the family to Charlie, almost forty-eight hours since Casey had been reminded Charlie existed. Forty-five hours of tears, tension, high emotion and, for Derek and Casey, comfort of the more physical kind. Their second night in their apartment had gone much like the first. Except that last night, their hunger for each other had been less about grief and more about reconnecting. Derek had found it very difficult to leave their bed this morning. Amongst all the grief, there was also a degree of satisfaction. Derek and Casey had been attracted to each other for a very long time. It was a relief to know that the physical attraction was still there.

Jazz shifted in his seat. "You're telling me that you two _finally_ jumped the shark?" He punched the steering wheel to emphasize the word 'finally'.

Derek threw him a pissed look.

"Don't give me that look, Venturi. I could have phrased it much worse than that."

Derek sighed. "You're late to the party, Jazz. Technically, Casey and I have been together for six years." He saw the confusion on his partner's face. "We were a couple before her accident and we never actually split up."

Jazz frowned. "I sort of guessed something like that but, why wait so long to sort things out?"

Derek was quiet for a long moment. "Because for five years I thought Casey had lost the memories of us as a couple. I didn't want to tell her and see a blank look on her face. I wanted her to remember."

"But, honestly D, the way you guys feel about each other is written all over you two. There would never be a time when Casey would deny your relationship. You could have told her, and she would have responded."

Derek shrugged. "I wasn't so sure. It was a moot point anyway, because she never actually forgot about us." He took a deep breath and began the topic he had been dreading re-telling. "Besides, me bringing it up would…there was other stuff…and…she wasn't ready for all that."

"What other stuff?"

Derek swallowed hard. Jazz started to protest but Derek held up a hand and wiped something from his cheek.

"Give me a minute, ok?"

Jazz nodded, baffled. After a while, Derek coughed and swallowed again. Jazz handed him his coffee and Derek took a grateful sip. Eventually he sighed.

"Casey and I lost a baby when she had the accident." He ignored the shock on Jazz's face and continued. "The trauma to her abdomen was so great, the poor mite couldn't survive. As well as the damage to her body, Casey lost all memory of the baby, and I thought she'd lost all memory of us. I went from having everything I ever wanted in the world to losing everything in one go. And I couldn't tell anyone. No one knew about us and until the hospital doctors told Nora Casey had had a miscarriage, no one else knew about the baby.

"And I didn't count. As far as they were concerned, I was the wayward step-brother. I only found out she wasn't pregnant anymore because I broke down in front of the consultant in the men's room at the hospital when no one would give me a straight answer."

"Shit."

"I couldn't talk to our parents, I couldn't talk to our family and, until the night before last, I couldn't talk to Casey. If I'd brought up our relationship too soon it might have triggered her memories at a time when she couldn't cope with the grief"

"So, what changed? Did she remember?"

"About the baby…?" Derek shook his head. "No. Some stupid new consultant at the clinic didn't read his notes properly and started having a discussion with her about the possibility of a rainbow baby." Derek saw the confusion return to Jazz's face. "It's the term used for successful subsequent pregnancies, post-miscarriage. He didn't click that Casey didn't know she'd been pregnant. They had dealt with all of the aftermath while she was in a coma. She was so scarred it was difficult to understand which scar was which."

"How did Casey take the news?"

"Not well. Most of the past forty-eight hours is something I never want to live through again. Coupled with the fact I had to tell Nora who the baby's father was…"

Jazz winced. "Ouch. How did Nora take that?"

"About the most positive thing I can say is we both cried." Derek sighed. "Jazz man, you're one of my best friends, but can we drop this shit? It's all anyone we've told wants to talk about, and all I want to talk about is which fucker killed my child. Can we just get back to work?"

Jazz nodded and there was silence between them. Derek straightened in his seat. "So, give me an update. What exactly are we doing here?"

His partner shrugged. "We've spent the last day or so getting as much info on the main characters as possible. Agatha has been trying to trace Sophie's child, Spike has been going through official channels to get more access to the convent, Sanchez is looking into the old dance company and its members."

"And you?" Derek asked.

A door opened in the building across the street and a figure emerged.

"And I got Trent Sutton." Jazz said gesturing towards the figure who had paused on the doorstep. Derek narrowed his eyes and then widened them when he realised it was Sutton they were watching.

"Following a sitting councilman is pretty ballsy, Jazz. Does Spike know?"

Jazz shook his head. "Nope. But I'm not taking pictures and I'm not planning on using any of this in court. This little excursion is just to prove a point to myself…and you." He grinned at his friend. "Look!"

As they watched, Sutton turned back to the door of the building and leaned into the doorway. It was obvious he was hugging someone, and when Sutton had finished and turned to go once more, the person concerned stepped out of the house to wave at him. She was willowy, a dancer's physique Derek guessed, with long dark brown hair. She was wearing a silk printed dressing gown that just about covered her backside and she blew a kiss towards her visitor as he reached his car. Derek whistled.

"Well, what do you know? His Honour is not so honourable."

Jazz chuckled. "His Honour is a serial adulterer, and he has a type. Who does she remind you of?"

"Sophie – but with Sophie's natural hair colour rather than that bleach blonde look." Derek paused. "You reckon this girl is just one in a long line of brunettes?"

"Stands to reason."

"With a dutiful wife at home."

"The dutiful wife can take care of herself." Jazz noted. "Have you seen a picture of her?" Derek nodded.

"She's gorgeous, but the term 'ice maiden' springs to mind." He commented. Jazz nodded. "Do you think she knows?" Derek asked with genuine curiosity.

"The wife _always_ knows. Guys like Sutton don't have the intelligence to hide it well. I mean, the guys I had on his tail tell me he came here straight from his home."

Derek was thoughtful. "You have a picture of the wife?"

Jazz frowned. "We have phones, Derek. You know we can access anything, anywhere! _You_ have a picture of the wife. It just requires effort to get it out of your pocket." Derek grinned at his friend. Jazz sighed and reached into his own jeans pocket.

"What are you looking for?" He asked after Derek had spent a few moments looking at the picture. Derek scratched his head.

"Jazz, do you have a 'type'?"

Jazz looked confused. "Really?"

"Just answer the question."

"Not really, looks-wise. I've never been a guy who went just for blondes or redheads. It was more about personality and…erm…other physical attributes."

Derek snorted. "Just be honest, Jazz. You like your women to have large breasts. You think I haven't noticed over the years."

Jazz frowned. "And you don't, have a type?" He pushed. "I remember a time when you were always dating blondes."

Derek was quiet. "My dating habits are exactly my point." He admitted eventually. "I do have a 'type'. Believe it or not, I prefer brunettes and girls with a bit of personality and intelligence."

His friend laughed. "Seriously?! D, I've met some of the girls you've dated over the years. They were nearly all blonde and vapid."

Derek nodded. "Because you've only seen the girls I dated _after_ I met Casey. When I met Casey…she was the forbidden fruit. I wasn't allowed to date her, and it became really difficult to date anyone who resembled her. So, I changed my type. Admittedly, not all of my girlfriends were blondes and unintelligent, but neither were they brunette, intelligent…"

"…with a stunning dancer's body." Jazz interjected.

"That's my child's mother you're talking about, ass hat!"

Jazz held both his hands up in a defensive posture. He chuckled.

"What exactly is your point?"

Derek scratched his head. "When a guy is unfaithful to his wife, he tends to go one of two ways. He either dates a younger version of his wife, suggesting that it's how his wife has aged that became the turn off, or he dates her complete opposite, either because he's trying to forget about her or remember someone else." Jazz shrugged.

"I guess."

"I want to know about the other women Trent Sutton has dated, because this girl," Derek motioned towards the house. "She's the dead spit of Sophie. Is he dating her because she's the antithesis of what he has at home? Or is he dating her to remind him of Sophie?"

For a moment Jazz said nothing. "In other words, was Sophie an inconvenience to him, or was he in love with her?"

"An inconvenience would be easy to kill without remorse. If he was in love with her…"

"…then Trent Sutton is unlikely to be our guy."

Derek nodded. "Her injuries weren't consistent with an argument between lovers or even former lovers. Maybe smothering, or if it was a jealous rage, maybe multiple stab wounds. A single stab wound and a broken ankle. It just doesn't make sense."

"It's a long shot." Jazz sighed. "But I get what you mean. I'll look into it. I've got a friend who works for the local press. She'll know who the councilman has been doing the bunny hop with. Here's another thing. Sophie was between Sutton's engagement and his marriage."

"Yup. While the fiancée was away…"

"You think he was as indiscreet while he was dating Sophie? I mean, going straight from his home to their little rendezvous?"

Derek caught on. "You're wondering if the fiancée knew the way the wife now does?" He thought about it for a moment. "That would depend on how important Sophie was to Sutton. If it was casual and was part of a pattern, then the fiancée probably knew and didn't care. However, if he cared about Sophie then he'd want to protect her, not just from his fiancée but also the press. How the hell are we going to find out which it is?"

Jazz shrugged. "No idea. I'll see what Bev at the paper thinks. She may have some ideas, and I'm still hoping to speak to some of their former employees." He looked at his watch. "What next?"

Derek pondered the question. "I think I need to catch up with Agatha and Sanchez. There are other players in this game, and we don't know who all of them are yet. The one who concerns me the most is only five years old. We don't know where she is or even if she is alive. Getting to the bottom of that is a priority."

Jazz nodded. "Poor mite. I hope she's holed up somewhere with a long-lost relative of Sophie's who we don't know about."

"She could be anywhere, Jazz. Anywhere. The fact we don't know where, is killing me." There was a passion in his voice that his friend didn't miss.

"Five years old." Jazz mused. "How old would your baby have been if it had lived?" he asked gently. Derek blinked.

"Five years old." He sighed. "Charlie would have been five."

* * *

Casey was packing.

She was back in her bedroom at their parents' house, surrounded by boxes and suitcases, trying to clear out things she didn't need or want and whittle down 28 years of clutter into the essentials. Lizzie was sitting on her bed sorting through a box of school files.

"I can't believe you kept these!" Casey's younger sister exclaimed. "You even have your old spelling bee practice books."

Casey shrugged. "I've never owned an apartment before, so I've never felt the need to go through the stuff we had in the attic." She explained. "This time it actually feels as though I'm moving out."

Lizzie smiled. "Do you…? Own an apartment?"

Casey sat down heavily on the bed. "Apparently so. Derek had my name put on the deeds. I haven't given him any money towards it though." She pulled a face. "It feels strange. Particularly, since this was only supposed to be for a year when we first talked about it, but…"

"Things have changed." Lizzie confirmed.

Casey groaned and flopped back on the pillows. "I don't understand how I'm supposed to feel, Liz. Rosa is right. I'm upset about the baby. It's like a huge weight in the middle of my chest. But it doesn't feel like I'm grieving enough."

"Derek said you were distraught when you found out."

"And he's right, but… look at me Lizzie, I'm not prostrate in bed with grief. I'm packing up my belongings to move in with my boyfriend."

Lizzie shook her head. "No. You aren't." She took Casey's hand. "You are packing up your belongings to move in with your child's father, so that the two of you can work through the grief together. You lost so much five years ago, and one of the things you thought you'd lost was your relationship with Derek. You're feeling more positive than you were expecting to feel because the two of you have regained something that was really important to you both. IS really important to you both. This is your best chance for healing, Casey. Don't belittle it, by believing it's not important."

Casey sat up and squeezed her sister's hand. "Thanks, Lizzie. I hope you're right."

Lizzie smiled. "So…Derek, huh?"

Casey blushed. "Derek, the teenaged years was an act, Lizzie. It took Derek and me a long time to realise that. He's a decent, hard-working guy with really strong morals." She grinned. "One day, I decided that everything I'd been looking for in my perfect guy was pretty much right there in front of me in Derek. It was just a bit bashed about. We all reacted differently to our parents' divorces. I became too grown up. Derek went the other way. And our parents contributed to both situations because it made for an easier life. Mom liked me playing house and looking after you because it eased the pressure on her. George had three children to bring up. He didn't have time to rein Derek in."

"You knocked the corners off each other." Lizzie confirmed. Casey laughed.

"Oh yes! It was interesting for a while when we were at college." She looked away. "And beyond…"

"How far do you think it will go?" Lizzie asked softly.

Casey picked up the pendant around her neck and rubbed it gently.

"Not think. I know." She said, equally quietly. "It will go all the way. Maybe it won't be perfect. Maybe there will be times when we make each other miserable. But we couldn't be apart for the past five years. That's not going to change."

They stopped talking for a while and continued searching through Casey's belongings. After a few moments, Lizzie paused.

"Are you sure I'm not going to come across anything embarrassing?" She checked, pointing at the piles of paperwork from college. Casey shook her head as she flicked through a school book and chucked it on the recycle pile.

"Nothing to do with Derek and I." She assured her. "Derek went through everything at our old apartment after the accident. He removed anything too personal and hid it."

"Everything?"

"Everything. He showed me last night. All our personal letters and photographs are already at the apartment."

"Letters?" Lizzie grinned.

Casey smiled. "Derek can write letters. They are very…"

"Graphic?"

The elder sister laughed. "Not really. They are very well-written and full of …promises." She saw the look on Lizzie's face and clarified. "Romantic, future plans…goals. _Not_ promises that involve phrases like 'hot and heavy'." She paused. "…mostly."

Both girls giggled.

"The only things he didn't have access to were the photographs I had on my laptop when it was destroyed in the crash. I lost a lot of personal stuff on my phone and my laptop."

Lizzie frowned. "But you've got it all back though?" She questioned. Casey frowned.

"No, it was destroyed."

Lizzie groaned. "Casey, nothing electronic is destroyed these days, you know that. Unless you stop paying for your cloud space. Did you?"

"Cloud space?"

"Remember when Ed set up your laptop after your birthday – just before the crash? He had it back up to your cloud account."

Casey's eyes widened. "Of course, he did. But that was five years ago. It won't still be there."

Lizzie shrugged. "It will if you're still paying for it. Are you?"

Casey frowned. "I can't even remember which account I paid it from."

"When did you last re-bank?"

"I haven't since college. I'm thinking about it as I'm moving in with Derek, but I've had the same account since I went to Queen's."

Lizzie stood up and paced the room, looking for something. "Where is your bank box?" She asked. Casey crossed the room and took the lid off a box.

"My last statement should be in here." She said. "I really must change to paperless statements. Here it is!"

The two girls crowded around the statement and then suddenly Lizzie squealed in Casey's ear.

"There it is! You have a regular payment for cloud storage. Your data will still be there."

Casey took a deep breath. "Wow! How do I access it? I'm not sure I can remember my passwords."

"Ed will know. Let's go and ask him."

* * *

"Did Sanchez have anything?" Jazz asked as he re-entered their office later that day. Derek shook his head.

"A few names from the dance company that will hopefully mean more to Casey than to me. I think I'll get her to come in tomorrow and we'll do a case review. See if anything flags up. Agatha's drawn a blank too. The more we dig in that direction, the more I'm convinced Sophie's baby was born somewhere other than a hospital. I haven't quite worked out how they got around registering the birth yet, but I'm fairly sure that the nuns are in it up to their starched habits. You managed to speak to your press contact yet?"

Jazz nodded. "Apparently, it's an open secret about Sutton's philandering. There has been a string of women over the years. All pretty, and pretty disposable. Few have been serious enough to get his mom or wife interested, however. According to Bev, that's the point when you know that it's serious. He's allowed a degree of freedom, but they step in when it goes too far."

Derek frowned. "Has that happened often?"

"Bev says not. She thinks only once or twice, and then it has been the girl getting too eager rather than Sutton."

"I wonder how they would have taken the news of the pregnancy."

Jazz scratched his head. "Chances are, not too well."

Derek sat up in his chair.

"How old are Sutton's three kids?"

Jazz picked up his notebook from his desk and flick through to the right page. "Four and two. Why?"

Derek tapped his nose thoughtfully. "There's money in that family, agreed?"

"Millions. It's in trust funds and so on, but yes."

"Sutton's kids are worth a pretty penny." Jazz nodded. Derek continued. "ALL of Sutton's kids. Including any by-blows."

"'By-blows?'" Jazz didn't know the expression.

"Illegitimate children. The eldest of Sutton's children – that we know of – is Sophie's daughter. She could be worth a fortune."

"Do illegitimate children count?"

Derek turned to his laptop. "Depends on the wording of the will and trusts.

"Interesting. Wills and so on are protected until they are actioned. The chances of us finding out are very slim."

"Minuscule. But we need to try."

* * *

"Wow!" George exclaimed as he walked through the door of their apartment. "Derek has taste!"

Nora laughed. "Of course! He chose my daughter." Derek's stepmother announced. Marti and Lizzie shared a look. Nora had changed in the past forty-eight hours. Gone was the over-protective mother who couldn't let her adult daughter breathe, to be replaced with someone who closely resembled the Nora they remembered from their childhood. Casey noticed the exchange between her sisters but decided to ignore it. She turned to George and grinned.

"I have to admit, the boy done good." She commented. "What do you think Robbie?" Casey asked her youngest brother who was gasping in awe at the large screen in the corner of the living area.

"Is this 3D?" He asked hopefully.

Casey shrugged. "No idea. You'll have to ask Derek when you see him."

George glanced up and saw Edwin struggling through the door with a box of Casey's things. "Guys, can we explore later and go and help Ed empty the cars first? I'd quite like it if we had Derek and Casey moved in before he gets off shift."

Edwin grinned. "Keen to be rid of them?" He teased. George sighed.

"Keen for us all to get back to a state of normality so we can start to grieve properly." He looked across at Casey. "Your baby was our grandchild." He said simply and put an arm around Nora. "Our grief is different, but we still feel it. I think we all need space to deal with our grief on our own levels."

Casey gazed at the floor. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Nora quickly came to her side and put her arm around her shoulders. "This wasn't your fault, Casey. Any of it." She paused. "Come on. Let's get your things brought in and then we can call for take-out. You know what Venturi males get like when they've been asked to expend a bit of energy."

Later, when the most important of Derek and Casey's belongings were finally installed in their new apartment, the family sat down to take-out. All of the siblings chatted about their individual lives since they had last been together. Although they didn't avoid recent events involving Derek and Casey, neither did they dwell on them. As George had stated. Each of them had their own grief and would deal with it in their own ways.

Derek was missing of course, so it wasn't perfect, but for tonight, they were celebrating being together. The contrast to the previous evening was dramatic. There was no confrontation, no secrets and no lies. Just family.

Derek arrived home quite late, just as the rest of the family were beginning to think about leaving Casey to rest. They heated up the food for him and hung around to chat while he ate, but soon Robbie yawned, and then George followed suit. Everyone realised how little sleep they had all had the night before.

Nora was the last to cross the threshold. She turned to her daughter and her step-son and hugged them both.

"When Casey's father and I separated, I never thought I would be happy again." She said quietly. "But life usually finds a way to help you move on. The years with George haven't taken away all the pain and I don't know that I ever want them to. But I can breathe again, and my life is richer for having the Venturis in it, in ways I would never have expected. I would have loved – do love - Charlie with all my heart, and the pain of never being able to hold your baby in my arms will always be there. But we will get through this…you will get through this, and you will be stronger as a couple because of your grief, not in spite of it. Look after my daughter, Derek. You will never find a more faithful or loving partner. Look after my step-son, Casey. He has been loyal to you through the hardest of years – a proper testimony to his love for you. I am very proud of you both."

Then she kissed them both goodbye and turned to join her husband in the elevator.

Casey stepped back into their living area as Derek closed the door on their family. He smiled gently at the emotions he saw in her eyes at her mother's words. She smiled back.

Derek turned and looked at the piles of boxes clustered in the main space and grinned.

"You've been busy." He commented. "I take it we've moved out?"

She sighed. "I needed something to do." She explained. "Inactivity gave me too much time to think, and I'm not really in the right frame of mind to go back to work yet. Besides, George has given me a few days off."

"I understand, honestly." He picked up the lid of one of the boxes and winced. "Sports illustrated – swimsuit editions. Didn't you vet the stuff before it got loaded in the car? I'm sure I gave these to Ed."

Casey yawned. "I tried to, but in the end, it would have meant someone other than me going through your stuff and I wasn't sure that was a good idea. We decided just to pack everything in the cars."

Derek nodded. "I'd have been okay with you going through everything, but the rest of our family…less so. There's still a couple of our letters I'm missing somewhere."

Casey's eyes widened. "Oh! Now you tell me! I nearly had mom pack up your clothes drawers." She sat down on the sofa, exhausted by the efforts of the day and lack of sleep the night before, but Derek took her hand and pulled her up to standing again.

"I think, my love, it's time for sleep." He told her. "You look worn out."

Reflexively, Casey yawned.

"You too." She noted. Derek nodded.

"It's been a frustrating day." He told her. "We are inching forward, but it's a really slow process."

"Tell me about it as we get ready for bed." Casey asked him. "I want to know. Have you found Sophie's daughter yet?"

They locked up and switched off as they walked towards the stairs and climbed up to bed.

"Still no sign of the child, no. But we're making progress on understanding the Trent Sutton connection, and Sanchez has tracked down some of the other members of your dance company."

Casey's eyes widened. "Wow! Are you going to talk to them?"

Derek pushed open their bedroom door and switched on the lights. "I want you to take a look at the names first and try to prioritise who we call in. Are you free tomorrow? To come in for the debrief and to look at the stuff we've found so far."

Casey nodded. "Sure. If you think it will help. I'll bring my laptop." She sat on the bed.

Derek frowned. "Why your laptop?"

Casey pulled her top over her head. "Oh, of course. I didn't get chance to tell you. You know the stuff I lost when the car caught fire? Lizzie realised that I was still paying for the cloud storage. Ed helped me to reset the password and then we connected to the data. We managed to download my old laptop files and back-ups of my old phone to my new laptop."

Derek looked at her in amazement. "That's fantastic!" he exclaimed, sitting beside her. "I'd considered the possibility, but I didn't think we would be able to access it. Did you find anything important?"

Casey, now dressed in her pyjamas, shook her head.

"I didn't want to look through it with the family around, and I knew you'd want to be there while I looked. I thought we could deal with it tomorrow. We're both far too tired tonight."

Derek nodded his agreement. "Definitely." He kissed the side of her head. "Great idea, though. We'll deal with it tomorrow."

"Tomorrow."

Later, in the darkness of their bedroom Casey and Derek lay quietly, close together. There hadn't been the frenzied couplings of the previous two nights, just his arm around her waist and Casey's fingers linked with Derek's. Casey told him in a quiet voice how Lizzie had described their moving in together.

"She's right." Derek agreed. "Every day as it comes, but today, I think has been a positive one." He kissed the back of her neck. "Time to sleep." He yawned.

"Welcome home, Derek." Casey whispered.

"Welcome home, Casey." He replied.


End file.
